YOUR WHOLE BODY DOING WHAT BIRDS DO BEFORE FLIGHT.

It takes him a moment to process her previous comment, but when the fact makes it through his smile gets stupid and goofy. Taller than Superman? Damn. He'll have a big head about this for a few days. He will be annoying at work tomorrow.

"I think he photosynthesizes. Actually. Kind of an unlimited energy source, the sun."

“ kody could use a bath. ” the boy agrees. “ he’s been to over eight states. probably a record in teddy bear years. ”

the coffee maker bubbles and drips. while it works, she gets the milk carton for him.

"over eight, huh? that's almost to double digits." note to self: check out the teddy bears' picnic from the library. he's outgrown picture books, and she probably doesn't remember the melody that goes with the words, but who cares.

he should have learned by now that there’s no such thing as coincidence. not for him.

had they been looking for him? waiting for an attack on the city because obviously that would be the easiest way to get iron man’s attention. he now can’t rule out that they originated these robotic birds, just to get his attention. there’s nothing hostile or aggressive in either voice or body language. but these days people don’t normally call him a playboy or arms dealer to his face unless they’re trying to wind him up.

but they’re in public, and tony’s on his guard, so nothing in his body language changes, other than perhaps a slight narrowing of his eyes. head tilting a little to the side.

"oh, man. kind of?" time-sensitive, she means. "i gotta get home soon."

she can't just pop home to change outfits and come back. (and she can't imagine any location she could meet him at later that wouldn't immediately clue him in, anyway.) not because anyone is waiting up for her, worrying—though julie might be, if she's home—but because once she gets back, she's going to fall into bed and pass out.

(khaji ren could protest about whether she, strictly speaking, needs to; after all, it's kept her going for much longer, in much worse circumstances. but it doesn't.)

armoring down in public would be impulsive and risky, especially now that he's bringing up paparazzi.

so she does something else impulsive and risky.

she lets khaji ren wire her into his earpiece—directly into iron man's motherfucking iron man suit. because what could go wrong with that. it's just a phone call minus the phone, right?

❝ yeah. ❞ you and me both, he thinks; fionn's not an alien vigilante, or whatever, he's not running around helping people in that way, but he is in this job because he wants to do something good in his life. because he's hurt enough people, and done enough shitty things, that he feels like he has to pay that back somehow. and yeah, he never meant to, and yeah, he's never been violent or a dealer or wanted to hurt people, but he's not an idiot, either. he wants to make the world better, not worse. he wants to be somebody who sees something happening, and helps. he wouldn't know how to just be a bystander.

❝ yeah, aliens usually come from space. kind of in the definition. ❞ is she an alien? her hand looks human, even if the bug stuff does not. but fionn reckons it might be rude to ask. because does it matter, really? she is helping people, she's doing a good thing, she can get to people before emergency services can, and it turns out he cares a lot more about that than whether she's from earth.

he huffs a laugh. ❝ okay, no need to be patronising, ❞ he says mildly, not truly bothered at all. ❝ is it...safe for you to be doing this? ❞

right now you wouldn't see it, though. there isn't even any blood on her armor; khaji ren cleaned it up. if there's a best part of this life, it's now, the after, and she lets her smile grow.

"i mean, if you're going to get technical about definitions—" but she stops herself there, because when has anyone ever wanted to get technical about definitions with her? since she left college, anyway.

"please, though? i gotta get joy out of this somehow."

she didn't think he would be bothered, or she wouldn't have said it. but then, she doesn't know him that well.

❝ Not as much as we'd like. ❞ Again, honesty was the best way forward. There were many at UNIT that would've jumped at the chance to learn more. Some a little too enthusiastically. She'd been quick to shut that discussion down. UNIT was Earth's last line of defence. They dealt with threats. Alice and Scarab posed no harm.

❝ What we do know is based on the energy signature your technology leaves behind. We can't fully comprehend it. But we can measure and track the signature, to a certain extent. The relic we've found displays similar traits... our analysts tell me the signature is too close to be coincidence. A one in- ❞ She paused, squinting as she tried to recall the exact figure. ❝ three point four million chance. ❞

Not as much as we'd like. Probably more than Alice and Khaji Ren would like, though.

She appreciates the lack of personal digging. As far as it goes. She's not going to make the mistake of trusting people with firepower who claim to know about the scarab, or openly want to. She can't afford to. (She couldn't afford to the first time.)

But it's bad news. Really fucking terrible odds. She folds her arms, the dread drawing her shoulders tight.

"My tech is a—kind of a copy of something a lot older. If you're reading energy signatures, you probably already know about the other active piece in Texas..." Active meaning Blue Beetle has it, and with Blue Beetle is where it's going to stay. "That one was found in Egypt, in the '30s, but it came from outside of Earth."

Well, Kate would know that, too. Sort of UNIT's whole deal.

“oh god.” tony makes a face, rocking his head back ( fortunately not cracking it against the wall behind him. ) the expression on his face might be embarrassment, with perhaps a mix of horror and frustration. a tinge of fear, maybe.

it would be different if jarvis was still alive. but he’s not, and phoning either of tony’s parents will result in some form of disappointment —— different flavors of disappointment, but he doesn’t really care for either. and now rhodey’s in the air force, he can’t just come and save tony from scrapes any more.

“nobody i can call is in this state,” he declares frankly, reluctance still clear on his face. the lack of a facial expression to read is throwing him off.

okay, no family. damn.

she hopes it's just that he's (allegedly) from out of state. but seeing the spike of panic on his face, she doubts it.

as for the for the ambulance and a hospital visit, she assumes for his reluctance that he can't afford it. she just doesn't say that, because she's not fucking rude, unlike some people.

"uh... no? if you're concussed, you definitely should not sleep it off. which is the kind of thing an er doctor could tell you."

but alice has to admit... it's not his only option.

His upper body suddenly unsupported while his feet were still stuck, Nat flopped forward. He pinwheeled his arms, just managing to wobble upright.

Nat barely registered Alice’s throwaway insult or even the harsh waft of burnt hair. (Luckily, the glamour that made his hair just a little redder and smoother also concealed the damage. He would remember and sulk about both offenses later.) Likewise, Nat’s brain skated neatly over the icy depths of the accusation that had been the point of her admission. It was crazy, so why dwell on it? Nat hadn’t made a pact or anything with anybody– he’d remember if he did.

Still, when he went to free his legs from what remained of the blasted-up webbing, he hesitated, then fumbled to grab his dagger from where he kept it sheathed on his thigh.

Nat wasn’t a warlock– but Alice was. The shock of it was like a punch to the gut– or like falling abruptly when the spiderweb holding up your arms was exploded apart by magic.

“Al–ice,” he said, catching himself at the last second. “I’m sorry, you never– I didn’t know. Are you… I don’t even know what to say.” ‘Are you OK’ seemed like a pretty dumb question, considering.

Why does his hair smell burnt, but not look it? Oh, fuck you, Alice thinks, realizing. She's in a mood, now. Every petty little thing is going to piss her off. But a glamour? How can she believe anything he says?

"You can stop—Iying!"

Her voice hitches. She wants to scream, but she lacks the breath for it—the minor fallout of casting after so long without flexing that muscle. The scarab is weak, and so is she.

Alice stops with her hand pressed to her breastbone. Her gaze slides off him as she tries to get herself back under control.

"Fuck you. Cut yourself down."