Making a Hero

 It was still dark when I got back to my hotel, which seemed as deserted as when I'd left. I sighed at the only bit of good luck I'd had so far. Less witnesses was definitely a good thing. I didn't doubt for one moment that Stark would find me eventually, I just hoped to get in a shower and maybe a snooze first. I was definitely devouring my snack stash before doing anything else though. Barfing after that Shifting was making me feel starved sick in the worst way. 

I crept through the foyer and pushed the elevator button, receiving a nasty shock when Mr. Dirty Looks from the lobby earlier, appeared out of nowhere and stood to wait with me. As if I hadn't been through enough. He looked at me with open disgust again, his gaze crawling up and down, lips curling as they took in the state of my clothes. Torn, dirty, puke splattered.

We entered the elevator, heading for the same floor. Fantastic. I was going to have get used to running into Captain Tall, Dark and Mean. He didn't seemed thrilled at the prospect of spending more time with me, and I didn't blame him really. I was a mess. Torn up and bloodied clothes, dirty, sweaty skin, there was a big scorch hole in the back of my jacket and t-shirt, and since the repulsor blast had destroyed my bra as well, it was sitting peculiarly at the front, making me seem all misshapen and lumpy. My track pants were torn in the knees, with blood spots and filth all over them and there seemed to be chewing gum adhered to the toe of my sneaker. I didn't even want to think about my hair.

I looked as though I'd been dragged backwards through wet hell. Meanwhile he was looking extremely sharp. Slacks, shirt. All clean, tidy and expensive looking. Nice shoes, neat hair. I envied him intensely. He clearly hadn't seen as much excitement as I had at this ungodly hour of the morning.

I cocked my head slightly and shamelessly surveyed him, being far too tired for subtlety. He was quite attractive really, despite his scowl. Tall, lean. Clever face with excellent cheekbones. Shame he was acting like an asshole. He leveled me with another stare, as though it was my fault that the elevator was agonizingly slow.

“Mate,” I said, trying to ease the uncomfortable atmosphere, “Those night clubs aren't for the faint at heart.” I forced a laugh and pulled a face. Yeah. We were all buddies here.

The lift dinged, doors gliding open to reveal our floor. He acknowledged my words with a forced grimace, that I think was supposed to be a vague smile, and then skulked into the hall. The situation got even more awkward as we realised we were heading in the same direction. I couldn't believe it. He was practically radiating resentment. I clenched my jaw, not quite believing this situation. I'd just hacked the computer of a certified genius, punched on with Iron Man and here I was feeling intimidated by some snooty prat in a green shirt.

“Do have a problem with me, or do you just hate people in general?” I blurted irritably. What the hell, might as well find out what his problem was. Seemed to be the morning for confrontations. He turned to me, wearing a quizzical expression, a politely puzzled tilt to his lips. “I beg your pardon?” He was the very picture of cool courtesy and I was in absolutely in no mood for this kind of passive aggressive bullshit.

“Oh cut the crap, you keep looking at me as though you're picturing how I'd look wearing an ax in my sternum. Is there something that I'm doing that pisses you off in particular or are you just an unpleasant person?” I ground out at him hotly, Feeling angrier than was justified. I was tired and cranky and he was being mean.

I'd reached my door, and swiped the key card with unnecessary force while I glared at him expectantly. His eyes met mine briefly before he glanced away. I didn't think that he liked being expected to explain his behavior. “It is not personal.” He finally admitted grudgingly. He then turned and swiped his own card with a great deal of focus, clearly wishing I would just leave him the hell alone. I blew out a loud, defeated sigh and turned my door handle.

“So you just hate people? Well, enjoy that.” I shoved the door open and glanced over my shoulder at him, then paused. If I was throwing caution into the wind, I might as well go all in. “Hey Mr Anti-Social, I don't suppose you know how I might find the Avengers?” I asked and his head whipped around to stare at me, mouth dropped open, his jaw flapping, making him look like a handsome dark haired goldfish. He quickly recovered himself, straightened and his expression became haughty.

“And why in the Nine Realms would I share that kind of information with you?” He sneered, sounding superior. It was a tone that suited him. Nine realms? Of all the things I expected him to say to me, and the list was long and offensive, that was not one of them. 

“You're right, I didn't exactly ask nicely.” I rubbed my chin, and smiled slyly, “It doesn't matter, I don't think you can really help me anyway.” I poked at his pride hoping that he'd yield what he knew. But he didn't. He just smiled indulgently at me, clearly knowing exactly what I was trying to do.

“More likely that I simply don't want to.” he murmured, but his eyes glittered with amusement and he was watching me for my reaction. I squinted at him, was this guy for real? He seemed more receptive to my blatant attempt at manipulation than to my strained elevator small talk.

“Which is fair enough. Kind of mean though. Are you this mean to your friends too?” I muttered sarcastically and crossed my arms. He stared at me for a long moment. “I don't have friends.” He said coldly, all traces of amusement gone. I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Oh gee, well I wonder why?” I exclaimed and he looked surprised at my audacity. Probably wasn't used to being sassed by degenerate Australians. I shrugged at him and vanished entirely into my room, shutting him out with a decisive click. It wasn't until after I'd showered and fallen Into bed that I realized his words had been spoken very carefully and deliberately. I was no genius, but he seemed to be just as foreign here in New York as I was.

***

I managed to wake up around noon, groggy and and still starving. I'd burned through a lot of energy shifting, now I needed a lot more food than a snack pile. I yanked on jeans and a hoodie, looking forlornly toward the bin where this morning's clothes had ended up. My backpack was already half empty. I'd need to go shopping soon, and look for a permanent place to live. It wasn't likely to be easy, unless I found a job, my savings would just dwindle away to nothing before I ever found Hydra.

I found a seat in the coffee shop next to the hotel and ordered off a pretty waitress. I twisted the thin loops of chain around my neck while I waited, recalling the tidbits of information I'd retrieved before Friday had ousted me last night. Stark Industries had some history, none of it relevant to what I was supposed to be doing, but worth mulling over. For instance, back when it had been Howard Stark arming the world, he'd come across an alloy called Vibranium that had roused his curiosity. Unfortunately, he'd been unable to examine all of the applications of it due to the limited amount available to him for study.

His son Tony had once attempted negotiations with the nation Wakanda, where the alloy originated from, with no success. He'd reached out to their king, T'Chaka, who'd refused his offers. The information in the server didn't go into any further detail regarding Wakanda. Apparently there had been an alternate source of Vibranium through a man known as Ulysses Klaw, who had stolen a significant amount from the Wakandan nation, but he was so low brow and shady that even Stark had refused to deal with him.

The waitress returned with my order and I was stirring sugar into my coffee when someone slid into the chair opposite me. “You are looking much better this afternoon.” He said coolly. I glared at him and sipped my coffee.

“Not that it's any of your business.” I didn't care if I was being rude. after this morning's interaction, I felt no need to even fake courtesy with this man. "What do you want?" He gave a soundless chuckle at my brashness.

“You came back looking rather... used up, you ask me about The Avengers, and your attitude is refreshingly different. Certainly it makes a drastic change to what I've become accustomed to.” He signaled for coffee and settled in comfortably at my table. Which I'd never even invited him to. He did have a point though, I'd been at least as confronting as he was. He gave me a charming smile, and it did amazing things for his attractiveness. “You've roused my curiosity and I find that I should like to know you better. Surely it can't do any harm?”

If any other man had said those last words to me, I would have believed he was hitting on me. Not this man though. His angle was entirely more complex than getting into my pants. Which I might have let him do since he wasn't exactly the worst looking guy I'd ever met. Quite the opposite honestly. 

“I suppose not.” I grunted, though I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. I picked up my knife and fork and began to tuck into my food. Effectively ignoring him. I wasn't sure what he wanted, but I certainly didn't trust his motives. I was certain that I had interested him, but he reeked of an agenda. I shoveled more food into my mouth, and glanced up at him to find that he was watching me with distaste. I was making a pig of myself. “I'm sorry.” I said, wiping my mouth on a napkin, “I'm just really hungry.”

“Worry not, I have seen worse.” He waved off my apology and waited for me to put my fork down before reaching across the table to capture my hand in his freezing cold grip, “My name is Luke Frost.” We awkwardly shook hands over the table top.

“My name's Brooke. So, to what do I owe the pleasure Luke? I assume you've got something particular on your mind.” I wasn't ready to believe anything this man said to me, so I slid my soul slightly out of sync with my body. By doing this I was able to see and accurately read other souls, which means I would know if he lied. I retained control over my physical self. Albeit somewhat jerky control. Like I was suffering gamers lag.

The first thing that I noticed of Luke's soul was that it was nothing like any other soul I'd ever seen before. I have lived long enough, and seen so many souls that it's become a simple matter to identify the differences in humanity. A mutant's soul is different to perceive than a non-mutant soul. Kree souls are markedly different to human spirits, and there were people getting about who were an odd blend of both. Luke's soul wasn't remotely human. It was more. Older, wiser and it's moods were more complexly woven together than I knew was possible. It was beautiful and it was absolutely terrifying. I put my guard up.

Luke tapped his finger on the table thoughtfully, he gave me a sideways look and his mouth twisted into a smile, “I find myself intrigued as to why you want to find the Avengers,” He was curious, but his soul flashed resentment when he mentioned the Avengers, “and naturally, I should like to know why you appeared so disheveled in the early hours of this morning.” He raised an eyebrow at me and I had the feeling of being dragged deeper into the crap that I'd accidentally wandered into. They say, when you're in it up to your neck, you should keep your mouth shut. Of course, I tend not to.

“What, you don't believe that I'd been clubbing?” I asked, signaling for more coffee and trying not to think about how this beautiful not-human being was being so friendly. The waitress trotted over and filled my mug obligingly. She gave me a friendly smile and shot Luke an appraising look, which he completely missed. I almost felt sorry for the poor woman who was sashaying away from us seductively, hoping that he might yet notice her. He didn't. Luke snorted, breaking my focus on our waitress's backside.

“Hardly. I have seen people who have been clubbing, they are altogether a different kind of dirty.” He raised an eyebrow at me. It took me a moment to remember what he was going on about. He was implying that people who go clubbing come back a sexed on kind of dirty, which was not how I'd returned last night. I'd come home looking like something that the cat threw up, complete with actual vomit chunks. I internally cringed just thinking about it. Not my proudest moment.

 “I was beaten up. Great welcome to the city.” I didn't think I needed to mention who I'd been beaten up by. “I want to know where Avengers are, simply because who the hell doesn't these days? Seriously, they're basically gods. Actually, one them is a god. What can I say, I'm a big ol' fangirl and I just want to touch them. It's like, my life long dream.” I didn't think I was really selling the crazed, fangirly, stalker persona that I was trying to put on. My pitch wasn't quite high enough, and it felt very forced. He knew that I was lying too. The disbelieving look on his face and the half a smirk indicated that I shouldn't take acting up any time soon.

“Oh that is disappointing.” He murmured, “I'm sure you could have concocted a better lie than that.” He grinned at me and I pulled a face back, then shrugged.

“These things happen.” I had a noisy slurp from my coffee, so far I'd concluded that Luke was a dark man, with a sinister sense of mischief that you wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of. I was sure he had an interesting story, after all, his soul was something unique, and therefore a source of great fascination for me. “Where are you from Luke?” I asked.

“England.” He said quickly. But his soul shrank from the lie. I cocked my head. He certainly sounded British, but apparently that wasn't where he called home. Despite the obvious layers of deception, I was enjoying myself immensely. It had been a long time since I'd been able to participate in this kind of lighthearted repartee. He's good looking, clever, charming and, let's not forget, not human. Though I suppose, technically, I really wasn't anymore either.

“Oh that is disappointing.” I mimicked. He gave me a quick searching look, a fleeting uncertain smile passing across his face as I continued, “I'm sure you could have concocted a better lie than that.” He was rather adorable when he was trying to figure me out. I grinned at him and he opened his mouth to reply, but then his eyes fixated on something behind me and his playful expression dropped, apprehension flaring up in his soul.

“My, my, my, we are a creature of untold mysteries aren't we? I do wonder just what it is that you're up to when I see that Nick Fury seeking you out.” He grinned and I bent to look behind me.

There was a tall African-American man in a long, black coat. He looked as though he'd just stepped out of The Matrix, apart from the eye patch. He had his gaze locked on me and was weaving his way between the tables. His soul bristled with determination. His name was ringing bells, but I was struggling to recall how I knew it. “And who's Nick Fury when he's at home then?” I asked, but when I turned back around, Luke had vanished. That slippery little shit.

“Is this seat taken?” Fury asked abruptly, before he sat down without waiting for an answer. He settled into the chair, but still managed to look awkward. Here was a man that belonged in action, not sitting at an intimate table for two in a little cafe.

“How can I help you Mr. Fury?” I asked sweetly, taking great pleasure in the surprise that I knew his name. He wasn't used to being thrown off guard and I had a feeling that I wasn't going to get to do it again. He observed me carefully, deciding how best to talk to me.

“I understand that you had quite an exciting night Miss Davis.” He said carefully. I wasn't surprised that he knew who I was. It was obvious that this guy didn't go anywhere without knowing everything and being prepared for all possible outcomes. I was more of a 'winging it' kind of person myself. I pushed my empty cup away and wiped my face before I answered him,

“Well, it was an interesting learning experience.” I studied him intently, eyes on his face and his soul. “Cut to the chase Nick, why are you here?” Nick narrowed his eye at me. I tried not focus on his eye patch. He didn't seem to like my attitude, but then, not many people did. Luke being perhaps the only exception.

“I received intel that someone hacked Stark Industries computer systems in the early hours of the morning, and when Iron Man gave chase, he was... well, he didn't apprehend the perpetrator.” Fury admitted, I grinned. Damn right he didn't apprehend me. I pondered on Fury's word choice. 'Received intel' meant that it wasn't Stark who had put Fury on my tail. He had an insider in Stark Tower. Oh Mr Fury, you deviant.

“That's an interesting way of putting it.” I commented, “I think you'll find that even though his server was breached, nothing was actually stolen.” I suddenly figured out why Fury's name was familiar. I'd seen it in Stark's data files. Fury had been the Acting Director of an organization that Stark had supplied weapons to and after bunking out of the weapons business, Stark had become an official tech adviser.

The business history dated back to his father's day. Howard had been one of the founders of the organization. Strategic Homeland Intervention and Enforcement Logistics Division. Quite a mouthful, that was abbreviated to S.H.I.E.L.D. Despite the fact that Shield had fallen off the map some time ago, apparently, it hadn't fallen far enough if Nick was here.

“It's not the breach of his server that we're interested in, though that is a concern. I don't even mind that Stark was beaten. It'll do his ego some good. What concerns me is how Tony was taken down. It's not every day that tiny anonymous Australian girl shows up and humiliates a renown superhero in a chase that lasts two blocks.” When it was put like that, it was hard not to feel kind of smug. But I remembered the fear, the burn and the puke and the smugness quickly faded.

“I'm not tiny, I am average.” I corrected Fury, “If Stark had let me run away, which was the plan, I wouldn't have had to take him down. Instead he chased me and shot at me. I had little choice but to defend myself. It's honestly pure luck that I succeeded.” I wondered which Nick was more interested in. The How, or the Why. “I'm going to go ahead and assume that he doesn't know that you're here, so how did you find me before he did?”

“It wasn't difficult. Eye witness accounts, incoming at the airport, security footage. Facial recognition scanning. I have more access to these searching methods than Stark does.” Fury shot me an amused look, “Also, Tony was unable to immediately start a search when he regained consciousness. Something about nursing a concussion and his Iron Man mask being so dented that it had to be carefully cut off him. He is really, very unhappy with you.”

“Well. I can't say I'd be too thrilled with me either if I were him.” A part of me was saddened. I adored Iron Man and didn't want him to hate me. My waitress dropped my bill off at the table and I grimaced at it, I'd eaten a lot and I needed to tip. I sighed, “What's the point here Fury? Are you arresting me, charging me with something or hitting on me? I don't mean to be pushy, but I've got other pressing concerns.” Fury's face hardened.

“You have enough skill to take down Iron Man. You're obviously powerful, and smart. I want you under my control. You could be a valuable asset and in case I am not making myself clear enough, you're also an unknown, which makes you a threat.” He stood up, took a card out of his pocket and placed it on the table, “I will not allow a threat to go unchecked and uncontrolled in my city Miss Davis. I'm offering you an opportunity and you would be wise to take it. You've got twenty four hours, and then we'll be coming for you.” His soul had turned as dangerous as his tone.

“Mr Fury,” I said quietly, anger bubbling to the surface, “I don't take well to being threatened.” I rose and stepped uncomfortably close to him, “I have been hiding since you were shitting yourself and screaming for your mama, if I choose to disappear, you will never find me. I could be right under your nose, and you would never know it. Don't presume that you could succeed where others have continuously failed.” I jabbed him in the chest with a finger and retrieved his card from the table. “I will not be controlled Fury, if I come to you for this opportunity then you had better be prepared to make it worth my while.” His mouth hardened into a thin white line. He was fuming. I wagged his card in his face.

“Don't call me, I'll call you.” I said with a sarcastic smile, then I turned my back to him and left the cafe, leaving him with my bill.