The great raid
The next day, I took some time to procure some samples of wedding invitations from a really good stationer in the city and we selected one that had a spare, elegant typeface (not script). Steve seemed really pleased that I had taken the initiative, which made me feel really bad about my reluctance. Spurred on by my desire to show more enthusiasm for our special day, I took Maria with me to the stationers and arranged for confidentiality in the production of the invitations. When we got back, I also had fifteen samples of different shades and tones of blue, seven wedding magazines, a pretty pair of shoes to wear with the dress (a medium-blue velvet, a fairly low heel height of two inches) and recommendations for florists. Maria would pick up and bring the flowers with her to the wedding. That afternoon I lined up an appointment with catering to discuss the menu, started a secret Pinterest board for wedding ideas and lined up Natasha as my maid of honor. Not only was Natasha a good friend, but I completely trusted her ability to smooth things out if there was a wrinkle. Not that there would be. The planning for this thing would be as tight as Steve's butt and Steve would have his perfect day if I personally had to maim somebody to ensure it happening.
Steve looked a little surprised as I staggered in with the shopping and wedding-related stuff, and quite bemused as I arranged the samples of blue for his consideration. He was baffled by the choices, but ultimately we chose a blue that turned out to almost exactly match his eyes. Fancy that. I put the appointment with catering on his calendar and reminded him that I needed to get the size for his wedding band. He smiled, and playing with my ring, asked if I would mind if he got me a regular wedding band since it would be difficult to find one that would look good attached to my engagement ring. I agreed immediately and indicated that I liked the thought of a plain metal band. Then I produced a checklist, which I had divided into things he needed to do, things that I needed to do, and things we needed to do, and asked for his opinions on the flowers and decor. He started to look a little alarmed when I asked him to look through the magazines and decide on the suit he wanted to wear and he said he had a strategy session with Tony before I could ask his thoughts on wedding cake flavors.
I emailed May to give her a heads up that I was getting married and to ask if Peter could come out with the others (Maria, Eliza) for the wedding. Then I had to buckle down and do some actual work. Eliza hand-carried in a file for me. "Mr Stark asked me to bring this to you," she said, and glancing at it I saw that it was specifications for a scaled-up arc reactor engine for a high performance car along with the final lab report on the motorcycle engine. It wasn't what I expected.
"What's going on in there? Where is Tony, anyway?" I asked her.
"Oh, he and Captain Rogers are in his office. Mr Stark just ordered up a snack and the captain was looking for a ball game on the tv," she said helpfully. My mouth dropped open.
Strategy my ass.
Also, where does Tony get the snacks? Did Eliza know?
Eliza brought in the mail, which included an invitation to speak at a dinner for successful New York women. Eliza explained that it was a group of influential women who both networked at these meetings as well as mentored up-and-coming women in a variety of fields. She strongly urged me to accept the invitation, which I did, and we arranged my schedule so that I would be working in the city at the time so I didn't have to make a special trip. I asked her to find out what they wanted me to speak about before conveying my acceptance as I didn't want to show up prepared to talk about non-proprietary science stuff and be expected to talk about wrangling interns instead. Or vice versa.
When five o'clock rolled around, it was a little hard to change gears and focus on the op for that evening. Especially since I didn't know what that entailed. Nobody was up in the residence, so I took a little nap. I woke up when Steve sat on the bed. I assumed it was Steve, anyway, I didn't open my eyes, and curled around him.
"Come on, sweetheart, it's time for dinner. And the mission briefing!" he said coaxingly, like this last thing was a treat. I moaned and made him a counteroffer.
"Damn, Emma, we don't have time for that," he said wistfully, so I got up, grumbling.
Dinner was a carefully balanced selection of lean protein, veggies, and whole-grain rolls, with fruit and cheese for dessert. It had Steve's imprint all over it. My body might be a temple, but I didn't have a problem with offering the gods a sacrifice of yummy baked goods. I staged a mutiny with some cookies I found in the kitchen, and he looked irritated. I shrugged and swallowed the bite of cookie.
Steve activated the 3D projector and brought up the blueprints of the warehouse where the action was shortly going to be. We carefully went over how we'd make our entry and engage Silvermane and his people. The objective was to capture Silvermane and make him tell us why he was after Peter, and if we couldn't do that, then we were going to try to take him out and do as much damage to his organization as possible. And that was it for the briefing. Beyond the initial engagement, any plan wouldn't survive because the other side would have plans too. We had our entry and our goal. It was enough.
We had a bit of a wait until we heard activity pick up at the warehouse, then we scattered to suit up. Steve helped me into my suit, then had a little trouble getting into his; tac fabrics are not kind to erections. Finally he picked up his shield and I grabbed my pike, and we met the others in the common room before leaving for the warehouse. We made sure that the air filters were in place and held ourselves outside until Silvermane himself showed up, listened as he looked at the setup and examined the heroin that was going to be cut and repackaged, then struck. Steve, Tony, Jim, and Sam came in through the skylights; the rest of us came in through windows and doors. I'd talked with Bucky and he advised blunting the edges of Nike so that I wouldn't be shearing off body parts. It was sharp enough to cut to the bone, but I agreed this occasion didn't really call for lopping off limbs. It was harder than I'd expected to get rid of the mindset of the arena, and I trusted Bucky to keep me on the straight and narrow for what was appropriate against the common criminal. I might have gotten some goon's trigger finger when I first entered, though.
After that, it was a whirlwind of activity. I was shot a couple of times, which hurt like, a lot, but I didn't feel anything break, so ultimately it was ok. My area had been cleared, but it was difficult to see clearly; particulates from gunfire and in some places where bags of heroin had been shot through clouded the air and some of the lights had been shot out. I saw, across the floor, Steve and Tony engaging Silvermane. It was astonishing to see the difficulty they were having controlling him, but Silvermane's metal body was a lot taller than expected, almost two feet taller than Steve. I stopped in a corner and spent some time on the big blade of the poleaxe to refine the edge again. Then I jumped into battle behind the cyborg and cut through his legs. Or tried to; unexpectedly, the metal in the legs was tougher than I anticipated and I only got through one. I mean, it was enough; he'd been supporting most of his weight on his back leg and he fell down, but I was really surprised. I'd have to take the leg piece and examine it. I also severed the right arm to limit his defense; I did it above the elbow so I could study the mechanics of the thing too. I picked up my study items and retreated as Steve and Tony pounced. I heard the sirens and heard Steve tell Pete to hit the road. We stood down when the police showed up to make the bust, and I noted Steve and Tony arguing with the officer in charge about interrogation. The rest of us were shown the door as a captain arrived rather belatedly. I went to where I'd stashed the mechanical limbs, took a metal sample, and photographed the innards as best as I could, then pointed them out to an officer.
We were tossed, politely, from the warehouse and Steve and Tony's offers to see Silvermane to the police station were rebuffed. As we walked back to the vehicles, Bucky shook his head. "I hate wearing masks," he said, and pitched his into a dumpster.
"Better than breathing in heroin," Pietro pointed out, and Bucky grimaced. As we fastened our seatbelts and we started off, I noticed that we weren't going back to the tower.
"Um...Tony, where are we off to?"
"I thought maybe some schwarma," he said flippantly. On the seat beside me, Sigurd barked reprovingly, saving me the trouble. Tony sighed. "Silvermane has a secret facility where they're doing DNA work. We've got a little window before he breaks out of police custody." Ah.
"So what's the plan?" Wanda asked. "We have a plan, right?"
"I am the plan," Tony said. "It's what I do. Miracles of destruction on command."
"Or alternately, there have to be gas lines going into the place," Steve said wearily.
"That was going to be part of it, yes," Tony said testily.
When we rolled up, I couldn't detect any heat signatures, so we skulked up to the door, avoiding the cameras as much as possible, and Steve broke us in. It wasn't as large a facility as I'd expected, but Silvermane had dumped money into it. The instrumentation was top-notch and there hadn't been enough time for the shiny to wear off everything yet. Tony popped out hard drives from the computers, then we left and Pietro ran around opening the gas lines. We waited five minutes, then Tony set off a remote detonator as we drove away. We could feel the concussion from the explosion a block away.
On the way back, I started to feel the aches from the fight at the warehouse as the adrenaline rush receded. Tony started scanning the drives immediately with help from Peter, who met us at the tower, so I went to take a bath, lots of Epsom salts for the bruises. It was a big bathtub, so Steve joined me and we talked about the op. "I'm getting old," Steve complained as we dried off. "These late nights are killers."
"It's not the hour, it's the company," I quipped, and he grinned. Then we hurried and got dressed since Tony was demanding a meeting. We went ahead and made our formal report, then Tony reported what he and Pete had found in their preliminary survey.
"It wasn't just Pete they were after," Tony said briskly. "He was collecting samples from everybody with extra oomph. There's a spreadsheet with the names of all the Avengers, those X-men, Pete's mercenary friend, all the street-level masks. Names, aliases, addresses, powers. Collection dates for some people. He didn't have Pete's home address or alias, and only some of his powers. Emma's name, address, and powers aren't known. Barton's address isn't known, so the intelligence isn't perfect." We discussed the raid, then there was a soft sort of "blapping" sound and Friday broke in with a report that the criminal Silvermane had escaped from police custody. Steve looked at the ceiling and Tony shook his head, then we discussed some more.
"Silvermane has himself a metalsmith," I reported when it was my turn to give my impressions. "I don't know if he or she is like me, obviously, not having met the individual, but the metal that comprises the cyborg limbs is really out there." I paused and thought about it. "It's not an approach I'd have used, because I wouldn't have thought about it. It's some different metals and different ratios than what I'm used to. Obviously, this is going to need study."
The next morning, I was up bright and early, hating life. That feeling lessened after the second big cup of coffee, and I finished up a few things with Eliza. We were set until the next time I came out, and I left on the jet back to Seattle with the others. Sigurd slept the whole way with his head on my lap and I slept the whole way with my head on Steve's shoulder.
I spent most of the next month head down in the lab; between casting the new engine and analyzing the scrap of metal I'd gotten from Silvermane, it was an intense and finicky period of time. The analysis was the fun part; everybody has preferences in the way they approach a problem and here was something quite different in terms of preferences in metals and minerals and construction, if you will. It wasn't hard to deduce the identity or ratio of the elements in the alloy; it took longer to figure how it was made and longer still to improve on it. It was very hard and durable, but it tend toward brittleness. I made myself yet another poleaxe to try it out on. With my improvements, I was able to dice the original sample.
On one of Tony's returns to the Seattle facility, I told him what I'd done with the stock. He was pissed that I wouldn't sell to him and insulted by my reasoning why not and left unexpectedly the next day in a huff. I was sorry about it but I wasn't about to relent.
And he ignored me the next week when I went out for that dinner with the womens' organization. It was interesting; there were women from all over the city and greater metropolitan area, with several interesting speakers in a variety of fields. I spoke about challenges in scientific research and it seemed to be received well. In the ladies' room, I unexpectedly ran into Pepper Potts.
I looked at her in the mirror while I was touching up my lipstick. "I was very surprised to hear that you were working for Stark Tech again," she said without preamble, but also not aggressively.
I sighed. "I didn't mean to, but...the opportunity was too good. And Tony was persuasive. Waved a lab and a great budget under my nose."
She laughed. "I'd have said he'd have turned on the charm."
"Charm is nice, but a kick-ass lab is better. He does know his target," I said, and smiled back at her. "I heard your company just posed a five percent gain, so congratulations."
The smile faded off her face. "It wasn't too hard. After Tony, everything else is less of a challenge."
I tucked the lipstick back into my purse and checked around. A miracle of sorts; we were the only ones there. "I don't want to interfere in your business, but I do want to give you some food for thought," I said, seizing the opportunity. "Tony needs somebody to run the business. He's good at it, but he wants to be innovating and Avenging, not always in that order. He's having problems with the board. Between the two of us, we have the controlling share of the business, so he can't be forced out again, but he's pissed about that too. If you want a challenge, I'd suggest contacting him and getting back on that horse. And congratulations on your engagement," I said, looking at the enormous diamond on her left hand. Her mouth hung open. I resisted the urge to tip it closed, smiled, and beat a retreat.
Tony was so going to kill me.
For the rest of that visit, I interviewed likely candidates for the next year's science/tech interns, then skedaddled back home.
Four days later, Tony burst into the house during dinner. "I should fire you for sticking your nose into business that is none of yours," he said cuttingly, not quite shouting. "This is my company. I make the decisions."
"I didn't hire anybody. I made a suggestion. She could have ignored it. You could have said no." I stood up and mirrored his posture, feet braced, fists on hips. We stared at each other. "When does she start?"
"Next month," he said eventually, and the tension faded some. He still wasn't really friendly, so I retreated upstairs. The boys talked downstairs for hours. I was already asleep when Steve finally came up.
"That really pushed the boundary," Steve murmured as he cuddled up to me.
"I know," I muttered. "It was interfering of me. But it will solve some problems for him, take a lot of pressure off."
"Did you know she's engaged?"
"Yeah, but that might be for the best. Tony's death on relationships. And she's not like Laura Barton; she doesn't support his Avenging. He'll never be able to stop. His gift and his curse is that he wants to save people."
"Why is that, do you think?" He pulled the blanket up and laced our fingers.
"Because he wasn't able to save his parents. Other people. Because he can't always save himself. Who knows? Maybe Con could figure him out, I can't. He's a complicated man." I went back to sleep.
I knew I'd overstepped, so I focused on other matters. My work. The wedding. I took my lingerie and shoes back to New York for the fitting of the dress. Maria was like the Terminator of wedding coordinators, and had everything under control; we worked seamlessly on every detail. Steve wanted two groomsmen plus his best man, so I added Wanda and Con as bridesmaids without complaint. Clint volunteered to do my makeup and after Natasha did a pretty updo, she was on for hair. We had the menu and made our cake choices in a timely manner. Wrangling my attendants was more work. All three of them had different body types and it was very hard to find a dress that looked equally good on all three, so I assigned Natasha the blue Steve and I had chosen and the other a slightly lighter shade that looked better on them anyway. Then each of them chose the dress style that she liked best, as long as they were short. They all ended up with dresses that were similar--floaty skirts like mine, fitted bodices; the only differences really were in the shape of the necklines and the sleeves. I chose a heavy Comfort Fit platinum band for Steve and had it engraved inside--all my love, forever and the date. I got the ladies pearl strands with simple pearl and sapphire earrings and sparkly diamond earrings for myself, picked up a plain satin garter since Steve wanted to toss it, and a comfortable suit to travel in. Peter was set to come out; the invitation included May as well, but she had to decline since her work was going on a company retreat that week. Steve was making an unattractive habit of running away every time I approached him with a piece of paper in my hand, but I always caught up with him in the end. He had to sleep sometime.
And, finally, it was time.