Origin story
Sooo. The idea of being back in New York was tempting. And it was a way to reinvent myself, I thought. I told Peter I'd give it some thought, but that was a lie, and we both knew it. He'd had me on the hook as soon as he proposed his idea. I had to do something, and maybe it was time to learn a new trade, go to work like a normal person, come home, have dinner, walk the dogs... maybe catch some criminals in a new suit. Something completely unlike anything I'd worn as Paladin. First thing the next morning, I called Foggy and had him start to work on a shell company for me, so my name wouldn't be on any legal transactions for property. I knew Stark haunted LexisNexis, and he'd probably be trying to track me. Why make it easy for him?
But before anything else, there was Bucky. I made myself go to the tower and presented myself at the front desk. The guard called for Bucky, who came down promptly, fresh out of the shower in jeans and a t-shirt. I sniffed as we took the private elevator up. "You changed your cologne," I noted. He was wearing something that had a nice rich clove note and a light warm musk.
He looked at me and smiled a little. "Yeah, I needed a change." Then he sobered. "I need to tell you that T'Challa told Stark that you were going to be here. I don't think he meant any harm, but I told everybody to stay away while you were working and I think they'll respect that."
I felt like snarling, but kept a pleasant look on my face. "Ok, I appreciate the head's up. But we both know Stark doesn't really work like that. If it happens, we'll just have to work elsewhere." Bucky nodded and led me to an empty workroom where the Wakandan scientist waited. His name was Samuel, and he'd gotten all of his degrees in Cambridge. He launched into an explanation of how the sensors worked of which I understood about one word in seven. From what I understood, if the sensors were successfully installed, he'd be able to register temperature and pressure. The number of sensors was disappointingly small, but they were surprisingly large. I had Samuel hook up a sensor to one of the new clips at Bucky's shoulder and touched it to see what Bucky felt. His eyes opened wide and had me touch his organic arm for comparison. He was so excited when he said he could feel the temperature change from my fingers and the pressure. Samuel puffed up a little; the sensors were his baby.
We started running into snags almost immediately. First, even I couldn't make the sensors attach to the arm. Then I had concerns about the number of sensors and the area they could cover; I wanted Bucky to have sensations all over his arm, not just his hand, which is where Samuel wanted to concentrate them. Both Samuel and I got frustrated, and late in the afternoon I threw in the towel. "I'm not quitting the project," I assured Bucky. "But we're not accomplishing anything positive right now. I'm calling it a day. I'm sure both Samuel and I will be thinking about potential solutions tonight, but I just want to tear my hair out right now. Let's reconvene tomorrow morning." Samuel stopped grinding his teeth, and I left with relief.
Halfway through dinner, I had a brainstorm. Wire. I needed to make wire from the alloy. I checked a couple of sources from my table. I'd have to go to a couple of supply houses to get what I needed to recreate it, but I could get a start tonight. I bolted the rest of my dinner, got the dessert to go, and tore around the city. A last stop at a Home Depot yielded the final batch of equipment. Back in my hotel room, I measured the mass of the metals and minerals on a sensitive balance and put them in a crucible. I wouldn't need a lot of metal to produce the wire. Firing up a propane torch, I melted everything, then poured it in a mold to obtain a long, thin rod. Then I thought again and made a small ingot just in case I needed the metal for something else. Wanting to be fresh the next morning, I went to bed early.
I hustled over to the tower, fighting the commuter traffic, in the morning. The desk guard was no one I knew, and I liked the anonymity as I signed in. He picked up the phone and was about to dial upstairs when there was a shriek. We both looked over to see Eliza almost running toward the desk to hug me. "Emma!" she said breathlessly. "It's so good to see you!" She backed away slightly to look me over, then gave me another hug. Pepper came up behind her and gave me a pat on the shoulder.
"Tony didn't mention you were coming back," Pepper said in confusion. My smile slipped.
"I'm not. I'm just here to consult with a Wakandan scientist about an upgrade to Bucky's arm." She nodded her understanding.
"Well, we'll take you up," Pepper said. "Please let Mr Barnes know that Emma's on her way," she directed the security guard, who nodded and picked up the phone again. In the elevator, Eliza said that she'd been assigned as Pepper's personal assistant. It seemed to be working out well for both of them. They walked me to the lab and Eliza went to get coffee as we waited. Pepper was doing a great job with the company, or so I'd read from my shareholder reports. "I'm surprised you hung onto your shares," she said.
"I was going to sell them," I admitted, "but with you at the helm, they're too valuable to let go. My financial advisor very nearly stroked out when I said I wanted to sell." She smiled proudly. We said our goodbyes when Samuel showed up. He hadn't had any big ideas, but then his expertise was on the electronics, not the engineering of the arm. I hadn't designed the arm, but I'd made it and I knew it inside and out. He listened to my idea, getting more excited as I explained the details.
"I'll need to modify the sensors," he said, grinning. Bucky showed up and the two of us babbled as we explained what we wanted to do. Bucky looked between us and smiled in bemusement.
"Ok. Is there any more coffee?" Samuel went on a coffee run for the two of them and I detached the arm and locked the bargain-basement hook model prosthetic I'd also made him in the beginning so that he'd still have two limbs while he waited. "So let me get this straight," he said when Samuel got back. "You're going to make wire, which you'll run from the outside in to the sensors." We nodded almost in unison. "What's going to prevent the wires from snapping?"
"The tensile strength of the metal is high," Samuel explained. "Bust she's also going to make grooves for the wire to rest in, and we have an electroconductive gel that we'll apply over the top. It will help to impart the stimuli to the wires while also ...sort of gluing them into place to prevent damage. It is almost as tough as bulletproof glass when cured properly with heat and UV light. It will impart a slightly satin finish to your arm and possibly a faint bluish tint, but it should be very inconspicuous and will not impede the function of the hand or arm."
Bucky hefted his arm and tossed it to me. "Better get to work, then," he said, smiling. Samuel took the sensors and went to one of the clean rooms to start his modifications. Bucky accompanied me to a lab where there was an apparatus already set up for wire, draw plates and everything. I drew it to the thickness of sewing thread and tested the tensile strength by twining it around my fingers and trying to snap it. It didn't, so I drew it down until it did, and chose a diameter in the middle as a way to reduce thickness without sacrificing needed strength. Once that was decided, the setup automatically drew the rod finer and finer. I only had to pay attention when I needed to change the size of the hole in the draw plate. While this was going on, I made my tool for engraving the grooves in the metal of the arm and found a stick of impact-resistant plastic to make the handle. I carefully opened the arm to create two halves and inspected the mechanics I'd originally set into place. Things were holding up well, but there was a gasket that was getting a little worn and a couple of pieces that needed attention, so I took care of those before cleaning it inside and out. I started to use my ability to make curved tiny holes in the metal for the wire to go in and out, moving molecules around so that there were no burrs or sharp angles to cut the wire. Finally the finished wire spun onto a spool and we returned to the lab. I only had about half the holes made when Samuel came back. Bucky was reading A Tale of Two Cities while he waited patiently, and both were a little disappointed that we couldn't start right away.
"I'm sorry," I started to say, but Samuel shook his head.
"It is best not to rush this," he said. "Take your time." He grinned. "I get paid whether or not I am actively working." I laughed and went back to work. I had to stop around nine because I was getting a headache. I hadn't used these abilities for a long time and it was showing, even though I stopped to stamp the grooves between the holes for the wire periodically. Bucky made me go for dinner with him before walking me back to my hotel. I went straight to bed.
It was midafternoon by the time I got the holes finished and started to thread the wires. I had Bucky and Samuel cut the wire to a length that I could use and started putting them into place, melting the ends into the inner surface of the arm, going through one hole, along the slight groove in the outer surface, in through the other hole. Periodically I stopped to braid the wires together; there were two braids coming out of each finger, two each on the palm and back of the hand, more as I went up the arm. I made coils in the wire braids along the way to account for any emergency need to stretch, and finally my part was through. I delicately fit the two halves together, and with a nervous huff of breath, handed it to Samuel. Bucky ran his organic hand over the surface; the wires stayed in place and he said it felt pretty flat to him. Samuel took it off to dip it into the gel; we'd have to wait a couple hours before hooking up the sensors, so Bucky took me to an early dinner. Samuel wanted to stay close, and declined to go with us. When we got back we still had to wait for the UV to finish the curing process. We were all jumpy. Finally Samuel brought back the arm, connectors attached to the ends of the braided wire, and began clipping the sensors to Bucky's shoulder. I held the arm close to the shoulder. The coating was very thin and had a slight texture that would make gripping things easier, I realized, serving the same function as fingerprints. I expressed that observation and Samuel paused.
"I didn't think about that," he said, dismayed, and I shrugged.
"I didn't either," I admitted, "but it worked out ok in the end."
"I don't mean to interrupt," Bucky said, his voice raised slightly, "but could you get back to work?" I smiled at his impatience. There wasn't much to be done; Samuel clicked the connections to the sensors closed and fastened the arm again. I held my breath as Bucky checked the movement, then touched the back of the hand with his organic hand. His smile grew, and I ran my hands down the arm. "I feel that! I can actually feel that!" he shouted. I thumped Samuel on the back in congratulations as he presented Bucky with ice cubes and hot water to touch to check temperature calibration, and then a variety of textures to check tactile sensations.
"It's good," Samuel muttered.
"It's great!" Bucky said fervently, hugging me tight, then grabbing Samuel for a three-way hug. "I never thought I'd be able to feel in this arm again."
I looked at Samuel and smiled. "So what's the next step?"
"I'm not sure," he said pensively. "External sensors? Certainly more points of contact..."
"The next step?" Bucky said, puzzled. "Aren't we done?"
"Not until it's as good as flesh," Samuel said, as if Bucky was a little thick. "Keep a record it how if functions, what's good and bad," he directed him. "I'll be in touch," he said to both of us. "I have some ideas..." and he exited the room, muttering to himself. Bucky and I grinned at each other. I picked up his hand, double checking the rotation and movement of the joints, the appearance of the whole thing. The wires were fine enough to not stand out, visually or tactilely. Bucky squeezed my hand and rubbed it.
"I can't get over this. It's so much more than I expected. The whole arm. I can't thank you enough--"
"Let's see it," Stark said imperiously behind me, and my lips drew back in a snarl before I managed to smooth it out and step away. I looked over and saw Rogers and Wilson with him. I frowned and stepped farther away from Bucky.
I put up with it until they had a chance to look it over. I heard a vacuum cleaner in the hall. "Congratulations, Bucky," I said, and walked out the door. I recognized the housekeeper; it was Rosa; she used to clean my office.
"Rosa!" She looked up and smiled.
"Miss Emma! It's good to see you!"
"I'm sorry to impose, but could you take me down to the lobby?" I asked, and she agreed. as we got into the elevator, I could see Rogers coming after me. He got in with us but stayed silent as I asked Rosa how her granddaughter was doing. We hugged at the lobby level and I walked toward the exit.
"So you fixed Bucky's arm?" Rogers said neutrally behind me after the elevator door closed. Damn it. Should have taken off running.
"Obviously," I said.
"Why are you talking to him and not me?" he burst out.
"That arm is one of my favorite creations," I said sternly. "Nobody's messing with it but me. As for why I'm talking to him..." I shook my head in disbelief. "I'm talking to him because he apologized to me in a meaningful way. He's the only one who understood why an apology was necessary." I turned and ignored him, exiting the tower with relief and looking for a cab.
I went back to Colorado the next morning and made arrangements with a local company to rent the house out to tourists. They'd take care of the money, the vacationers, and had a service for outdoor maintenance as well as indoor emergencies. If I wanted to stay, I just had to let them know in time to block out that time on the calendar.
I pulled up Zillow and started to look around for a place in New York. Not in a hipster neighborhood, god forbid, but some place with a respectable amount of traffic to disguise nocturnal comings and goings. I found pretty much the perfect place, but it was in Brooklyn. Well, Rogers didn't own the whole place just because he used to live there once. I set up an appointment to see it the next day and went to pack. The boxes with my family things had never been unpacked; I'd never entertained here and didn't have the need. All I needed to do really was to clean out the fridge, take out the trash, and box up my personal things, plus that little table I'd bought in Austria. I felt kind of sorry for the poor thing, it traveled so much. That didn't take too long either; I hadn't completely shelved my books, relying mostly on my Kindle when I read. I called a moving company I'd heard really good things about and they showed up late in the afternoon to take everything away for shipping when I had an address. I took a final look around and drove back down to Denver. I stopped by the kennel and picked up the dogs. We went back to New York and settled in at a different hotel at a comfortable distance from the tower.
The realtor called for us the next morning and warned me that there was an offer on the house, made just that day. The house was an Arts and Crafts style, welcoming and solid, comfortably shabby inside, reasonably up to date, nice big kitchen, two full baths, a nice yard with old trees. I made an offer ten percent above the first offer. There was a bit of a bidding war that lasted into the evening, but I got it for fourteen percent more. Or rather, my company would be paying that. Suck it, Stark.
The next day I relaxed pretty much into a blob of jelly, getting up only to walk the dogs. The concierge hailed me as we came back from the second walk. "If you'd like to relax, we do have a dog-walking service," she told me. I brightened. She brought the walker to the front; she was a nice kid who walked dogs to help save money for vet school. The pups seemed to like her, so I arranged a schedule with her that fit in with her college classes and the dog's needs. I would do the first walk in the morning, but then the dogs would go out twice with her. Everybody was happy. The second day I was also a blob, but by the third day, I was starting to make some plans. I went to Foggy's office.
I was surprised to find that Matt's office was shut down and the desk at the front unoccupied. "Kingpin threatened to make Matt's secret identity public," Foggy said bitterly. "He took off to San Francisco. And Karen was brokenhearted and quit." He muttered a few obscenities under his breath. "Shit," he said, as the phone rang.
"Nelson and Murdoch," I said, picking it up. "I'm sorry, Mr Murdoch is on sabbatical. Would you like to speak with Mr Nelson? One moment, I'll put you through." Foggy picked up and I went outside to the waiting room.
After he finished the call, Foggy came out. "I probably can't get you to work for me," he said.
"I can do this for a few weeks," I said, shrugging. "If I can bring my dogs. I could do the secretary side of things, maybe vet some paralegals for you. I'm still making plans, and you know I haven't closed on my house yet."
Foggy's rather haggard face lit up. "That would be huge. I couldn't pay much, though."
"That's fine," I said. I'd work for free for something to do, but this was more professional. He gave me the passwords to the computer and said he'd finish up with the work on my shell company so I could close on the house. Well, he'd be representing me at the sale, anyway. I didn't want my fingerprints on the legal stuff. The first thing I did was check the bills and the finances, which were a little low. I wrote the firm another check and went into the client spreadsheet, upping the fees that I paid by quite a lot. Foggy was a good lawyer, gifted in corporate law, and should be charging me accordingly. I printed out letters that needed to be sent to clients and took them in for his signature. We went over what needed to be done, and I said that the firm was running low on stationary. He asked me to order more, then we talked about what he'd be looking for in a paralegal.
"Matt is all about criminal law, but I'm more comfortable in corporate, so that's where I'm going to focus. Matt comes back, he can pick up what he wants to do, but since he's pretty much abandoned things here, I'm going to phase out our criminal clients." He looked kind of like he was expecting an argument.
"Makes sense to me. If you're doing the work, it might as well be something you want to do. As I get established here, I'll see what I can do to send business your way."
"I'd appreciate that." He fiddled with a pen. "Are you....um...considering going back to costumed crime fighting? Because, if you are, I'd be willing to represent you in criminal court if you get caught, just as a way to thank you. If needed. Just to let you know."
"Yeah, probably, at least until I get too old,' I sighed. "I will endeavor not to get caught, though." I smiled at him. "I really appreciate your offer."
"Well, you've been a good client, your retainer saved the firm from going under, and you helping out here is like manna from heaven, so it's the least I can do."
I got up and prepared to go back to work. "Well, I appreciate you too, Foggy. You're very patient with me and I really feel like I can trust you. I don't feel that way about many."
At closing, he came out with the keys to the doors, and we parted company on the street. Over the next few days, I went in early. The pups loved it, the adventure of it, the new smells, and Foggy was taken by them as well. He started taking them for their noon walk. I had a cleaning service come in one night to give the office a really thorough cleaning, and I went over the furniture thoroughly, polishing, fixing, and hiding scratches and gouges. I discreetly replaced the coffeemaker and microwave and stuffed the freezer with really good quality coffee beans, getting a grinder as well. I ordered really nice stationery for the firm as well as new, upgraded business cards for Foggy. I brought in a few potted plants that helped keep the air quality good and made the office look a little more upscale. I really had to work to keep from replacing everything with nicer things, but that would be way out of line for me to do that, and it might be unethical for him to accept. I didn't know, and I didn't want to get him into trouble. I started vetting applicants for the paralegal/secretary job, and pretty soon Foggy had narrowed down the list of candidates to his top three choices. I made appointments and was secretly glad when he hired my top choice, a woman a little older than me, downsizing after a divorce, who wanted a slower pace of work and relished the challenge of running the office. She had excellent references and experience and seemed both professional and kind, something Foggy needed. My last day of work, I dropped into the chair in Foggy's office and thanked him for the opportunity. He waved that aside.
"You saved my ass," he said. I put the keys on his desk.
"So there's another property I want to buy," I said. He perked up and listened as I explained.
"So you're going to launch a jewelry line?" he asked, and I nodded.
"It will be interesting initially because people will want to see what the ex-Mrs Captain America is doing, but it'll succeed because of the work," I said, showing him a sketchbook I'd filled with designs. There was so much inspiration in New York. Rogers might be brilliant with fashion design, but I knew metal. "I've made jewelry before and it was well-received." And because I was doing this as an indulgence and a cover, it didn't have to turn a profit and I could take my time learning new techniques too. I had my eye on learning enameling.
"I don't know much about jewelry, but I'd buy those earrings if I was a woman," he said, pointing to a graphic pair of gothic-inspired earrings. I smiled; I could convert those easily into cufflinks for a Christmas present. "Ok," and he made notes to help him set up my new business.
We closed the office together and walked down to the street. He gave me a handshake and we parted ways.
Ok, I had a cover identity, my home base, and a job. Now I needed a hero name, persona, and costume. And a sewing machine.