Janet Van Dyne

They reach what looks like an exit, and he obviously doesn’t have the key. Before she has time to register his threat, he’s let go of her hand and is breaking down the door. Where would I go? Back into the collapsing building? She shakes her hand, trying to sort if he’s actually broken it or not. This guy is lucky I can’t shrink right now. She glares at his back. 

He falters and gasps, the surge of pain gripping his limbs. His metal arm spazzes, whirring uncontrollably, must have been some sort of electric blast. The ground shakes beneath him, the building really coming down now. He needs to get through the door before it’s too late.

Don’t die - please don’t die! She was nearly dragging him to the back door of her building. “We’re here, Clint. Just hold on a bit longer.” She fumbled with her keys, bumping the door open with her hip. “Just a few more steps” she murmured as she pulled him toward the elevator. Thank goodness she had a penthouse suite.

She swiped her key fob by the scanner and sank against the wall as the elevator shot up to her floor. “It’s gonna be ok, Clint. Don’t worry. You’re going to be fine.”What if I can’t fix him? What if he needs a transfusion? She worried her lip until the ding of the elevator announced her floor.

She helped him into her flat, letting him collapse on her couch. She rushed into the kitchen for her first aid kit - and her sewing kit.

Clint was past the point of replying. He focused on what he was hearing, trying to cling to each word and remain conscious. The archer was losing sense as to where he was, depending solely on Janet as she guided him to the comfort of her couch.

Clint fell against it in a heap, breaths uneven and strained as his eyes shut against wave after wave of throbbing pain. He could deal with this…he’d dealt with worse and come out alive, and even if he didn’t have SHIELD he at least had the dependency of his friends.

She shuffled over to the fridge to pull out the bacon when Carol came back to life. “Coffee’s in the pot.” she mumbled, rubbing her face. “Everything else is still raw.” aren’t raw eggs good for this though? Her stomach flipped. Maybe not…

Normally she would have added some milk or sugar to it, but it felt like too much effort at the moment, so Carol just took it black. In a way it helped, the above average bitterness serving to wake her up a bit, while expertly purging the sour taste of old alcohol from the back of her throat.

After a few sips, Carol closed her eyes and tilted her head back, silently ordering her headache to take a hike. Hydrate brain. Hydrate. Naturally, positive thinking didn’t change a thing.

He has crafted a sense of self few can achieve on Midgard. Oh, perhaps if they had the years to do so, they might be able to, but Loki has found himself well versed in the malleable parts of both himself and reality. Where one would not bend, the other would, and he uses this to his advantage. It is the bending of reality that takes the time to mold to his whims and wishes, as anyone can change themselves in an instant. Upholding that ideal is what is harder and he has done that, too. 

So much so, in fact, that he sometimes forgets where the illusion ends and he begins. Then again, he is the silver heated to liquid… he can become anything, and so everything is him. 

Comforting, in a way, that he could never lose himself and yet, also never find himself. 

Ah, this is obviously some strange use of the word safe that I wasn’t previously aware of, he calls after his friends, chasing after on light feet. Friends. The word does not sting as it used to and Loki tucks the memory away as he walks, grin pulling at his face in all the wrong directions, confidence oozing from him as he stands straighter and delves through the crowd. They had given themselves to him, in the smallest way, and now he remembers how useful that is. They did not trust him, but what did he need of trust? 

But, Tony is still positive, even with the skepticism in her words. And though he’s sure people would remember if they ‘banged Iron Man’ (because he was a sensational lover, who would forget?) Tony figures that alcohol was most likely involved. If he could only remember one more thing…there was something about her that was…unique. 

He /had/ it. 

Then he remembers one detail she can’t deny. The new pink in her cheeks drains away. There’s no way he’d know that unless.. She shakes her head slightly, still not remembering. She could lie, and say that wasn’t her, but then it would drive her batty trying to figure it out. 

“How long ago was this?” she asked, trying to narrow down the possibilities. 

She settled back into her chair and nodded at the next question. “Sure, the other teachers are practically my family. We’re a close group.” She stops at that. Ororo is very private about her own life and that extends to her teammates and close friends. It took quite a bit of time, trust, and perhaps even a shared crisis to gain Ororo’s trust.

So she doesn’t gossip. Shame. She takes a sip of her tea. She hadn’t really expected much - they barely knew eachother. 

The question catches her off guard. It hadn’t been announced or anything, but she supposed Storm’s people kept an eye on them, same as they kept an eye on the mutants. 

“You’ll have to be the one to talk the others into changing their looks,” he laughs softly, shaking his own head. His suit fit him just fine and now that he made his own rules, there was no reason for him to change it again. That had bothered him more than he cared to say, considering he was so used to keeping things until they literally had holes in them, to make the most of them. “We’re all pretty set in our ways.”

For good reason, most the time. A brief flash of color from the corner of his eye could tell him if it was Barton or Romanoff offhand without even seeing them fully. 

It helped, to keep things somewhat similar, and he pauses to stare Janet down without really thinking about it. 

His words make her pause for a moment, and she tilts her head to the side. “Get out?” She’s not gotten everything she’s come for, but he seems to know something she doesn’t, and buildings don’t normally rumble like that. He’s relaxing his grip as she makes her decision. Time to get out. Getting some intel for the group would be great, but no-one would be impressed if she got herself killed. She tugged her arm, trying to break his grip as she followed along behind him. But at least he seemed to be heading to the exit. 

When they get to the door, he pauses, unable to break it open with just his right arm, but his metal one occupied in keeping his prisoner. No time to find another way out.

They reach what looks like an exit, and he obviously doesn’t have the key. Before she has time to register his threat, he’s let go of her hand and is breaking down the door. Where would I go? Back into the collapsing building? She shakes her hand, trying to sort if he’s actually broken it or not. This guy is lucky I can’t shrink right now. She glares at his back. 

There’s a pause that’s almost long enough to be uncomfortable, and she wonders if there’s more to the meeting than just an informal greeting. She nods to the implied question. “Yes, the one and only” And there’s another pause, so she reaches down for a blueberry, popping it into her mouth. “Thanks for the invite, I’ve been looking forward to working with you.” 

Party. Vegas…Caesars…Malibu…

Oh God, Cap was going to kill him. 

The realization had finally hit him, and the shock was shown in his expression for a brief moment, brown eyes widening before he’s able to control his features once again. He then offers the woman in front of him a bit of a shy smile, as he begins to speak. 

“Ok, this is going to sound crazy, but I’m pretty damn positive you and I have done the uh..” 

She threw one one of her silk robes and padded into the living room. Well shit. Carol hadn’t even made it into the guest room. And she didn’t look so hot either. She tiptoed as carefully as she could, given the circumstances, over to where Carol lay on the couch and carefully draped the blanked over her sleeping form. Time to get the coffee going. Looks like we’re both going to need it.

Point was, the tantalizing aroma hit her brain with enough force to bring Carol back into consciousness. The blonde groaned and rolled over, only to fall flat onto the floor, as she hadn’t realized she was on the couch. She swore under her breath at the sharp pain as her knee slammed the hardwood, but thankfully, the pain was gone as soon as it began.

Carol was too thankful to even realize that wasn’t normal.

She blinked a couple of times, blue eyes shifting to the window as she slowly made her way to her feet. Damn, it was bright outside. And her head was killing her. What time was it anyway?

Time to find a watch, because apparently she wasn’t wearing one. Carol was about to start hunting around for the missing time piece, but decided to put that on hold in favor of the coffee.

She stumbled a bit on the way to the kitchen, shaking her head to clear out the butterflies, which only increased the throbbing. Man, was she wrecked. Which was a problem in and of itself, because Carol had not been drinking near enough last night to feel this bad now. Never had there been a fighter pilot who couldn’t hold their liquor. Maybe she should just add that to the list of things that were wrong with her.

Reason 10,001: is now somehow a lightweight. Screw you too, alien machine.

She shuffled over to the fridge to pull out the bacon when Carol came back to life. “Coffee’s in the pot.” she mumbled, rubbing her face. “Everything else is still raw.” aren’t raw eggs good for this though? Her stomach flipped. Maybe not...

She sensed him before she saw him enter the corridor. She caught his awkward wave out of the corner of her eye, and turned to see who it was. To her surprise it was the scientist who had been responsible for her powers. And her greatest loss. She was immediately flooded with the pain and regret she’d felt the last time she’d laid eyes on him. Feelings she’d tried to put behind her.

Why was he here? She eyed the gym bag in his other hand. Ah. Another hero then? Or maybe he was.. what? An advisor? Someone to monitor the powered people?

She gave him a bright smile that didn’t reveal any of her inner apprehension. “Dr. Pym! How have you been?” She fell into step beside him. If memory served the man was oblivious - he wouldn’t catch the tears that threatened.

At least she didn’t look angry, like plenty of the others he’d run into had. Something about being bothersome, or too nosy. He never intended to get into others’ business, but he couldn’t help being curious–something utterly natural that never quite registered as being a possible nuisance. 

“Fine, thank you.” Stressed, maybe. Hank was quick to get to the point, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “I’ve been meaning to ask - if you don’t mind -” whether she minded was irrelevant once Hank got going, “how your “abilities” have progressed since we last met.” 

She blinked back the tears, trying not to let it get the better of her. He wants to know about my powers. That’s all.  Images flash unbidden of the two of them, fighting side by side. She’d been consumed by the need for revenge, and hadn’t much cared if she survived the battle. 

“It’s been.. easier.” she rubbed her arm. “They’re good.” Her normal enthusiasm for her powers was gone for the moment, as she tried not to dwell on  the past. 

His witticisms were making less sense, which was concerning. She needed to get him out of a dirty old alley and someplace clean and safe. She doubted he’d argue too much against it, as he seemed content to use her as a crutch. Hopefully that meant he trusted her, and not that he was fading.

His answer to her concern was a big relief, and she chose to take it at face value. Sure, he could be lying but she’d deal with that later, if need be. She gave a soft snort at his story “Well that does sound like you. You always did have a way with the bad guys”.

She nodded once. “I know. I’ve had a few close calls myself” She thought better of taking him around the front - he was covered in blood and that was bound to attract notice. She gently guided him back towards the back of alley. “Let’s go the back way. I’ve got my keys with me and it’ll keep people from gawking at us.”Keep HYDRA agents from swooping down and taking us out, is more likely.

It didn’t take them long to navigate the back entrance of her building, where loading bays for movers were located. “Home sweet home.”

The more time that passed, the worse Clint was beginning to feel. By the time they finally arrived, he was barely able to hold his head up, vision blurring around the edges as his body warned him he was pushing past his limitations. “If I don’t sit down soon, you’ll be dragging me.” He warned, looking down to see the cloth at his side drenched with blood. Wonderful.

Clint reached for the wall, using it to brace himself from falling forward and to relieve her of some of his weight. He wasn’t sure if he had the energy to make it one step more, but the thought of being out in the open where anyone could pounce them had him moving towards the door.

She swiped her key fob by the scanner and sank against the wall as the elevator shot up to her floor. “It’s gonna be ok, Clint. Don’t worry. You’re going to be fine.” What if I can’t fix him? What if he needs a transfusion? She worried her lip until the ding of the elevator announced her floor. 

She glances back to her companion and just catches his question. She smiles easily. “Why not?” She shrugs her shoulder “You can never have too many friends.” Speaking of which - she beams at the young man who took her wave as an invitation to join them. 

What a delight and with that knowledge, his information was complete for that night. 

Now… to just remove the bug from his arm. 

“Oh?” he murmurs, speaking lowly so that he may offer his words only to her. “I had thought the Avengers would wish to hold up one such as yourself on high. Strange but… I suppose they do not have the best reputation after everything that happened in the Capital in America, do they?” 

Interesting, that she is left out among the crowd of plebeians when the others are continually making trouble. Even this crowd of what Midgard must consider forward thinkers in at least one realm of their society, are not as prestigious as the grand heights of Stark tower. Laid in wait or perhaps tucked away never to be seen? Either way, it was a well done decision to keep her close to himself, at least. Though perhaps not quite so soon as he slides his hand past his pocket, gently transferring a phone from a stranger they had walked past to himself. A quick buzz from it and he pulls it from his garments, looking at the notification of urgency. 

“It would appear my home cannot be long without me, however,” he murmurs, showing the message to Janet that was precise and simple, marked with only a name of a woman and the words, ‘come quickly or so help me’ on the screen. “It would appear that something has gone awry. May I, perhaps, entice you with dinner some other time when I am in New York City, dear Janet?” 

Of course she knew who Tony was. He made damned sure everyone did.  His terse email didn’t surprise her much. She shot off her own little “Ok! Looking forward to meeting you!” And she was. Tony’s reputation was spotty - they’d travelled in the same circles, and he had a heck of a reputation. But he was an Avenger, and cocky or not, his suits were cool. She’d been dying to get a closer look. 

She arrived more or less on time - it didn’t do to be too punctual, but he was busy so she wasn’t more than a few minutes late. She’d taken the time to put on a killer outfit of her own, too. 

And speaking of fun, as the woman of the hour steps from the elevator, Tony has to mentally remind himself that he’s not the audacious playboy he used to be. Her outfit was certainly meant to impress and as she walked towards him, his eyes couldn’t help but light up in his usual Stark flair. 

Not to mention that she looked strikingly familiar. Where the hell did he know her from?! 

As she sits down a smile is issued his way and for a moment, Tony just observes the woman, waiting for the piece to click as to where they’d met before. 

There’s a pause that’s almost long enough to be uncomfortable, and she wonders if there’s more to the meeting than just an informal greeting. She nods to the implied question. “Yes, the one and only” And there’s another pause, so she reaches down for a blueberry, popping it into her mouth. “Thanks for the invite, I’ve been looking forward to working with you.” 

Janet Van Dyne. The name sounded too familiar.

Immediately following his brief conversation with Steve the night before, Tony had returned to the tower, eager to follow up on Captain America’s mention of the name Van Dyne.

The name just sounded too familiar. Nonetheless, the Iron Avenger had done his part as a leader. He reached out to the woman via email (God, they needed better ways of contact) and now he waited, provided she’d received his very short email which were composed of the words: Avengers Tower, Tomorrow, 4 P.M. 

Now, Tony sat in the lounge of Avengers Tower, dressed down in casual clothing as always. He had to admit, he’d done a damn good job restoring the Avengers Tower lounge to suitable visiting standards again, following the whole business with Loki. The ‘God sized’ imprint in the floor was particularly tough to get out, but he’d done it within a few days. 

She arrived more or less on time - it didn’t do to be too punctual, but he was busy so she wasn’t more than a few minutes late. She’d taken the time to put on a killer outfit of her own, too. 

10 o’clock AM. The morning was damn near over, and Carol Danvers was… Carol was passed out on Janet’s couch.

Anyone who knew her well would know how strange that was. Not the sleeping on the couch part, Carol could sleep practically anywhere, but the time. The military was consistent about one thing, and that was that the day started before the sun rose.

But today the sun was shining bright, and the colonel wasn’t up to meet it, sprawled out on the couch, one leg on an armrest, the other hanging off the side. The opposite armrest was her pillow, for the couch’s actual throw pillow seemed to have been thrown across the room during the night. Her arm was draped over her eyes, an instinctual effort to keep the light from penetrating her eyelids.

She threw one one of her silk robes and padded into the living room. Well shit. Carol hadn’t even made it into the guest room. And she didn’t look so hot either. She tiptoed as carefully as she could, given the circumstances, over to where Carol lay on the couch and carefully draped the blanked over her sleeping form. Time to get the coffee going. Looks like we’re both going to need it.

She quietly moved into the kitchen, getting her best hangover remedy breakfast going. 

“They’re great students…and they’ll be excellent leaders someday.” She follows Janet along, nodding in response to their conversation, he head still drifting between two points of focus. Settling upon mutant rights, Ororo’s mind delves SHIELD’s downfall and Hydra’s position of power. Hydra has been anti-powered heros so-far, so it’s just a matter of time before they include mutants in the focus of their cross hairs.