Hitting the streets
The letter was indeed from Batman and was an offer to get me in to see his personal physician if I needed one. Huh. He signed it with a little cartoon of his mask and the cowl with the ears, a bit of whimsy that took me completely by surprise and made me slightly rethink "Batstiff," as Sam had nicknamed him. But what to do, how to get word to him confidentially? In the end, I wrote on the note that I'd gotten treatment, was going to be fine, and included a thank you. I folded it differently and stuck it to the window in a different manner, leaving that blind down low enough to cover its presence. I didn't want to deal with the others about this. The next morning the note was gone.
I spent the week resting a lot, trying not to use my brain much. I started taking the paper edition of the New York Times for Loki, so he could start building an understanding of our culture and nation, and the laptop I'd ordered for him arrived. We had a chat about viruses; he'd crashed mine on a porn site. I'd been struck dumb by the confession, then I'd started to laugh.
"There are so many sites out there that show sex," he'd said primly, although he'd turned a fetching shade of red. "Such a stunning variety of...situations." I made him read information about safe website browsing.
The work at the UN was winding down; the agreements on superpowers was almost ready to be signed and Thor had gotten approval for a diplomatic mission to Earth, headquartered in New York city. Although it was based in Stark Tower for the moment, he would be looking for other quarters. He and the others would be returning to Seattle in a couple of days. Loki was still a sore spot with New Yorkers, and his presence was a closely-held secret, so he wouldn't be involved directly. He and the twins were out exploring they day I was due for my checkup; Sam and Steve and Bucky were downstairs. Sam was going to take me to the doctor for the checkup, and the other two were just hanging out. I grabbed Captain Obvious and some shoes and started down the stairs, pausing to eavesdrop. Peter was talking to them--what was he doing out of school?
"--all I'm saying, Captain, is that she dealt with your death just fine. Yeah, she was devastated, but she knows it's part of life and she got through it. But when she found that you weren't dead, that you'd lied to her by omission and gotten everybody else to do it too, that's when you broke her. I didn't think anything could. But she was broken, and you did it. It took her a long time to get to where she is. She's still not fixed all the way. So if you're going to try to play around with her again, don't. You've done enough damage. If you do, I'm quitting the Avengers and I won't be available to work with you guys again. You're not who I thought you were."
Yikes. I put on my shoes and started down again. Steve's retort, whatever it would be, was cut off by my appearance. "I'm ready to go, Sam...Peter, what are you doing out of school?"
"Relax, Em, it's parent teacher conference day and the teachers are doing workshops or something. I wanted to see you."
"Aw." I gave him a hug. "I've got a doctor's appointment. We could get lunch after, though."
"Ok," he said cheerfully, and he came with us when we left. They repeated the scans again and compared them.
"So this is your brain last week," the doctor said, showing me. "Lots of activity, but aside from those little organs for your enhanced vision, nothing out of the ordinary. This week, the activity is dropping, you've got the vision organs unchanged, but here we see denser brain tissue in a band that runs across the frontal and parietal lobes. It's not a tumor, not even close, but the creation of denser tissue. It covers the areas responsible for concentration, problem solving, planning, speech, sensation, and body awareness." She tapped a pen. "I don't have any idea what this means, honestly. I've never seen anything like it. I don't know if this was the way your vision organs developed or again, if this is something different. We need to keep an eye on it. I want you back for weekly scans and blood draws.
"Additionally, the AI reports that you seem to be getting tougher. Your muscles are still somewhat atrophied from the illness, but you seem to be displaying more density in the muscles and bones. What this means is that in the boxing ring, for example, it will be easier for you to take a punch and you will have much less tissue damage. It will be much harder to break your nose. It's not impossible, but it will take a hell of a lot more force. We're seeing the same markers in you that we see in other physically enhanced individuals. And it seems that your sense of smell has been heightened but it doesn't seem to be a gain-of-function mutation; we'll know more about this as we scan your genome again. Now, what this means for you. First of all, because of your physiological changes, you're going to have to increase the amount of food you eat, being sure to eat enough protein and calcium so that your body doesn't start stealing this from your muscles and skeleton. You need to get back to exercising, building up your strength. It does not appear that you're going to become dramatically strong, like Captain America or Spiderman, but you will probably see a little bump upward in that ability as a side effect of your durability. Pay special attention to stretching; enhanced muscle tends to get tight and difficult to stretch, so I would advise increasing your yoga to every day or working in dance classes of some type, for example. We need to be sure to support the brain, which means an increase in carbohydrates; they break down into glucose, which is the brain's source of energy. In addition--" I listened as she told me what I needed to be consuming in my diet or through supplements and dutifully took printouts and recipes. Oh, gross, kale. And brussels sprouts. Ew.
I was set up with appointments for the next several weeks. I pasted on a benign face when I went back out; Sam and Pete were the only ones in the waiting room and Peter pounced immediately. "What does that mean, though, in your brain?" he asked, flummoxed.
I shrugged. "Nobody knows," I said. "We're going to keep an eye on it." Somehow Sam had convinced Peter to pick up takeout and go back to the house. I had to explain again to a group which also included Tony and Jim now.
"I noticed that you're not talking about what might happen if the brain gets too dense," Sam said bitingly.
I scowled at him. "I know what might happen. The nerves could die, there could be impairment in function in those areas." A fork clattered to a plate. "But there's no signs of that. The nerves in the affected areas are actually putting out more energy than in unaffected tissue and there's no sign of impairment."
"Would you tell us if there was?" Tony asked, and I shot him a filthy look.
"I wouldn't have to. I wouldn't be able to hide it." Bucky rubbed his temples and jumped in.
"You need to remember that she's not part of the team any more," he said mildly. "She doesn't have to tell us anything, so don't gang up on her." I relaxed, but Steve, Sam, and Tony glared at him.
"You'd tell me, right?" Pete said very quietly as Tony sniped at Bucky.
"Of course, honey," I said, and patted his hand.
"Why him and not us?" Tony said loudly, and I rolled my eyes in irritation. Tony rubbed the back of his neck.
"Because she's practically my mom," Peter said loyally.
"I'm a pretty bad mom," I muttered.
"No, you're awesome," he assured me, and I messed with his hair.
It was pretty quiet as we finished our lunches. I was beginning to see why Steve was such a downer about diet; he wouldn't be able to survive on junk, it just didn't have the nutrients. After lunch, the boys departed, Peter with them (wished I could be a fly on the wall in the car) and I dressed for the gym. No boxing today; I did weight training (I'd really lost strength, it was depressing) and cardio in the pool. I swam lengths in backstroke since it was easier for breathing. It was relaxing to get in the rhythm of the strokes, not pushing too hard yet, just doing the work. Despite what I told the others, I was worried about what was happening in my gray matter. If I couldn't concentrate or solve problems, if my motor control went funny, I wouldn't be able to work, let alone fight crime. It would be hard for me to do anything I really enjoyed, including reading. It was genuinely scary. I didn't want to pass my days drooling and twitching, watching trash tv because I couldn't follow anything with a plot.
It didn't take too long to reach the end of my endurance, and I hauled myself out of the pool and hit the dressing room. It felt good to have worked out, though, and I felt better overall as I stepped out onto the sidewalk. When I got back to the house, Loki had returned and was preparing to go out to see a movie.
"Need some money?" I asked.
"No, it is the treat of Wanda and Pietro," he said. "What I need is a job. I have applications, though." I nodded. It occurred to me--finally--that he might not have a lot of resources. I wasn't sure if Thor really understood economics.
"Well, tomorrow let's go to a bank and get you set up with an account," I suggested. "You'll need one for direct deposit for a job." I had to explain that, and he nodded. As he was leaving, I slipped some cash into his hand. "Take them out for a drink or something after the movie," I suggested. He looked embarrassed, but I just patted his shoulder and went upstairs.
After dinner, I donned my disguise as Poppy under my clothes and went out to my neighborhood. It was early, so I didn't expect a lot of crime. It was mainly to see what was going on, be seen a little. Up on the highest building, I was surveying my neighborhood when I heard a faint sort of 'whoosh'. I looked up from my crouch to see Batman, cape settling around him. I smiled up at him and was surprised when he squatted beside me. I didn't think his suit had that much give. "You're an infuriating woman," he said without preamble. "You were right. I made assumptions about your abilities that were proven not to be true."
"Like what?" I asked, intrigued.
"Because you exposed your breasts, I assumed you were a bimbo who wanted to play at being a hero. It's trending. You have skills that I overlooked because of that."
"Is that an apology?"
"Yes."
"I accept, then."
'Thank you." There was a pause. "You're out early tonight."
"Yeah, I'm tired. I need to make an early night."
"Do you want to get something to eat?" he asked.
"Like this?" I asked, waving my hands at my costume.
"There's a place that won't bat an eye. Plus it's near a con, so we'll blend right in tonight."
I was too intrigued to say no, so I followed him to a diner, run-down looking but clean. Sure enough, the streets had a lot of cosplayers out on them, dressed as real heroes and characters from movies and TV. I saw one of me, even, but the cosplayer had an insane hourglass figure. I felt like a boy in comparison. She saw me too and came over, looking at me a little dubiously. "A for effort, though!" she said encouragingly, and moved on. Batman bumped fists with a few other Batguys in costume variants, and soon we were at the diner; I ordered a shake so I could use a straw and wouldn't have to take off my mask. I was starting to think that he brought me here so he could try to break my identity, but he seemed pretty relaxed and didn't try any leading questions or anything. It was actually kind of nice.
"This beats the last date I was on," he said as he ate a burger.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I took her to a nouvelle cuisine restaurant to try to impress her, but I flamed out, didn't know how to talk to her and practically starved her. We should have gone to a steakhouse. She's smart and funny and beautiful, and I completely blew it."
"Oh. That's too bad," I said cautiously.
"Plus somehow she guessed my secret identity. God," he rubbed his eyes. "She was very ill and I think it was an intuition thing. Blurted it out in front of her friends who were trying to help her. She probably thinks I'm a stalker now too." He buried his head in his hand.
"I'd like to meet her," I said, testing him.
"No, the two of you would team up and my life, such as it is, would be a shambles. I'd like for one woman not to thank I'm a complete moron."
"I don't think you're a moron," I said carefully. "I think you're arrogant, though. Either you're not challenged enough or you've been challenged enough that you think you can handle anything. A little humility is good for you."
He stared at me. "If humility didn't come with humiliation, I'd be more open to it."
I shrugged. "Live and learn, Batstiff." Oh, shit, did I really say that?
"What?"
I cringed. "It's a nickname I've heard. I'm sorry. It was rude of me to use it."
"Not inaccurate," he said after a minute. "It's this suit. It's very...upright. Closefitting." I held my tongue.
We left the diner--he carried money in a utility pouch on his waist--and walked through the pedestrian traffic, which was growing lighter due to the late hour. He offered me a mint from another pouch.
"Wow, what do you carry in all those?" I asked, fascinated.
"Weapons, mostly, but also the remote for my transportation, a little cash, chapstick, that kind of thing."
"Nice. I should try that out. I don't have enough storage."
"It's pretty handy," he said. "Easy to carry the essentials plus a few personal items."
"Condoms?" I gave him a wink.
He started in surprise and gibbered a bit. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't tease you."
"Then you'd also have to wear something less hot and change your voice, too. That purr goes straight to my cock." My eyes widened in shock and he slapped his forehead. "What is wrong with me? I'm frustrated, nothing new there, but normally I don't have verbal incontinence about it."
"Maybe this is where we should call it a night," I suggested, and he agreed quickly. I continued back to my neighborhood and he disappeared behind me. So weird. Maybe he'd had a touch of that illness too? Hard to imagine either Bruce Wayne or Batman on the subway.
There were lights on when I got home. Loki, Steve, Bucky, and Sam were playing Trivial Pursuit. Sam was the only one with more than one piece of pie. "Where'd you go?" Steve asked, but not in an accusing voice.
"Out for a walk. Got to build up some endurance again."
"Should you be by yourself?" Loki asked.
"I need some alone time," I said firmly. "I'm very grateful for your care and assistance, but I also need some time just to think."
Bucky grunted. "Would you like a snack or something?" I brightened up, and went upstairs to change. Whew. Good thing that I didn't just go in and out my window in costume. I changed quickly from my sweater and skirt into yoga pants and a fleece top, heavy socks--the nights were getting chilly--shoved my costume under the mattress and the boots under the bed, and went down. We all had a late night breakfast, scrambled eggs with crispy bacon bits crumbled into them, toast with spiced peach jam, and orange juice.
I listened as Bucky, Steve, and Sam discussed the signing of the agreement for the next day. "We're going to be relocating back here as a result," Bucky said. "The UN is going to inspect the armory once a year to be sure we've got our non-lethal weapons stocked and in development. I think it'll pay off if we're handy and not looking to hide anything."
"Huh," I said.
"You don't sound that happy about it," Steve said quietly.
"It's a surprise," I said. "Cost a lot to move operations again."
"Stark says that it'll cost less in the long run, we always have at least one cargo run a week out to Seattle," Sam said. "Plus I like New York. Never boring."
"We'll have to be careful not to step on the toes of the local heroes, though," Bucky said, looking at me. I returned his assessing look blandly. "They might not want us horning in on their turf."
"You guys aren't really crime fighters the way the street level heroes are," I observed. "The Avengers go after the biggest threats, not your average mugger." That was my domain, and yes, I was worried that they'd poach my crooks. Bucky smiled faintly.
"I'd stop a mugger if I saw one," Steve protested, and I smiled.
"Yes, but it's not your main responsibility. The heroes around here take their jobs very seriously." I swallowed the last of my daily supplements with juice. "How was the movie, Loki?" He entertained us with a critique of a supervillian/antihero movie that they'd seen. "You should start a blog," I said. "That was a good review." Then I had to explain a blog, and Loki was intrigued. The party broke up, Bucky stayed to help me clean up the kitchen and the others went to pick up the game.
"Don't you think it's a little soon to be out?" Bucky hissed as soon as the others were gone.
"Not a bad guy to be seen," I murmured.
"Still--"
"It would be a lot easier if you guys weren't hanging out here when I got home."
He winked at me. "Get to use that sash tonight? Be a great way to get information out of men, get them to do what you want."
I snorted. "Why, yes, Bucky, I took lessons in bondage so I could keep you guys off my back and under control." He broke out laughing. The other guys came back to see what was making him laugh so hard he nearly peed.
"She said she was taking bondage lessons so she could keep us off her back," he wheezed. Loki smirked, and Sam quirked his eyebrows.
"That's a novel problem solving approach," he said. "You think of opening a dungeon?" I looked at Bucky reproachfully and he rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling.
"I just pictured Stark spreadeagled on a bed, trying to get a housecleaner to cut him free," he said, which set him off again.
"That's an image I don't need," Steve said astringently. "I don't think I get the joke."
"I didn't think it was that funny," I said.
"You had to be there, I guess," Bucky said, wiping his eyes. He herded the others out, and I heard Loki asking Steve and Sam about dungeons and dominatrixes. Steve couldn't get out fast enough.
I smiled at Loki when he came back after locking the doors and arming the security. "I know you're up to something," he said confidently. "You can tell me when you're ready."
"Not tonight," I said. "I'm beat." He flicked up an eyebrow. "Not like that," I said. laughing, and giving him a little push. We affirmed plans to go to a bank in the morning, and I shuffled off to bed.