#murder-popsicle

Lois is used to Clark disappearing on occasion. A few hours to deal with a statewide crisis. A day and a half for a national threat. Once, he'd been away for nearly two weeks, helping stave off invaders from another dimension. Then he'd come back. He always comes back.

But now, after over seven months without any sign of him? Against all her better instincts, Lois is starting to worry.

She keeps up a brave face for the boys. She tells them he's working on a special story in Sudan, and he won't be in contact for a while. Fortunately (and unfortunately), the eight-year-olds are used to their father being away, so they mostly shrug it off. Meanwhile, Lois spends every waking moment chasing down leads on Superman's location. He'd been spotted flying over Croatia seven months prior... then nothing. It's like he'd just vanished.

And then, one day, it's all over the news. Superman returns! There's footage of him soaring down to the White House lawn, shaking hands with the president, making a grand speech about his unexplained absence and his newfound dedication to America.

It sets off every single one of Lois' bullshit detectors. Besides, Clark would never prioritize a press tour over his own family. Not after this long.

So she's on the first plane to D.C., calling in every last favor she's ever earned to get access, to get a face-to-face with the supposed returned hero. And as soon as she's in the same room, she just knows. It's not him. He might look like Superman, and sound like Superman, but his mannerisms are all wrong... and the way he looks at her makes her skin crawl. Like he doesn't even see her, like she's just some stranger.

Unable to call him out in front of all the politicians, she swallows down the bile in her throat and conducts her interview, asking as many probing questions as she can and getting only evasive answers, all the while forming a plan. There aren't many people she can reach out to, who know the truth about Superman and would understand her insistence that it's all fake.

Finally, from the backseat of her taxi back to the hotel, she types out a text.

Mun vs. Muse

tagged by: @murder-popsicle

The intel they had received had stated this would be some kind of secret HYDRA meeting, with some pretty big names expected to be present. Instead, what they got was an extravagant party, with said officials showing up as if they were hollywood celebrities, walking a carpet to the front doors of this manor, the carpet and several points guarded by troopers.

Rikki gave Bucky a chance to have a look through the binoculars, allowing the more experienced agent to case the place and formulate a plan to get the two of them in there. Too bad they didn't have a Black Widow or a symbiote with them, might have helped with the sneaking portion.

Whatever Bucky was planning would probably be better than anything Rikki could concoct. The auburn haired lass may think little of the organization, but she doubts even they are stupid enough to fall for the cardboard box trick, or Rikki and Bucky posing as wait-staff...

There was a distinctive patch of the ceiling that had water damage. It wasn't much, but it was there. Right now the shape kind of reminded him of France. Why didn't they ever go to France? When was the last time they went anywhere just for giggles? He heard footsteps before he felt them through the floor. Steve barely lifted his head enough to take another swig of the bottle he was working on. He glanced over at Jane, a lazy smile on his face as he rested his head back down.

Natasha had lived on and off in Avengers Tower since the Battle of New York, as a place to crash between missions or when she was stationed in the city for SHIELD work. Despite the many strong and varied personalities that lived there (or perhaps because of them), it was possibly the closest thing to a home she'd ever had. The Avengers weren't just her teammates anymore. They were her family.

It wasn't the first time they'd had a new addition to their ranks, but it was the first time she had a history with them. It filled her with a strange, fierce joy to see Bucky there, safe and whole and herself, in a way she hadn't been in years. Maybe in a way Natasha had never known her, if she was being honest. They hadn't exactly been their truest selves when they met, more like weapons in somebody else's arsenal. It scared her a little to feel that much, and it made her all the more cautious. It was difficult to learn how to trust her feelings after a lifetime of repressing or redirecting them.

They'd had almost a week for everyone to settle into the new arrangements, but she suspected it was going to take much longer for it to feel normal. If anything around here was ever normal. To no great surprise, sleep was eluding her, not for the first time that week, and she found herself wandering out to the communal floor. She told herself it was for a drink, but she could have found that in her own rooms. What she was really seeking was company.

    ❝ i’m picking up lunch, ❞ he tells her, taking a step forward in the queue as he looks up at the menu.  ❝ what d’you want in your sandwich? ❞