"You've got a little whipped cream on your nose," Ben said from across the desk.

Leslie quickly swiped her thumb over it and sucked it off. "Thanks for warning me."

They sipped their coffee in almost-silence, contented hums and laughter in the air between them. Leslie got up even earlier these days, insisting that having two jobs demanded it, and they always spent a few quiet minutes in the office before the rest of the department showed up.

Jerry was first to arrive, eating a breakfast burrito and smiling. Then Donna, then Ron, then Tom, and then April.

Time dwindling, Ben reached out to grab Leslie's hand and squeeze, and she smiled softly at him. "You're amazing, you know that?"

And that's when April interrupted them.

"There's a guy here about a thing," she said.

"Thank you for your specificity, April," said Ben.

"I'm just gonna let him come talk to you because I can't remember where he said he was from because I stopped paying attention." She left, texting.

"I should go," Ben said. "If it got April's attention, it's probably important.

"Yeah. Go, get outta here," Leslie said with a wave. She had whipped cream on her nose again.

"You've got," he said, gesturing as he walked out backwards. He was almost out the door when he bumped into the man waiting quietly outside.

"Oh, I am so sorry," said Ben, but the man just waved a hand. No big deal. Ben shot a startled look to Leslie as the man sat in one of the chairs, checking his watch.

"Hi, welcome. I'm Leslie Knope. What can I—"

"If you'll excuse me, Ms. Knope," he said, "I don't have much time."

He extended a hand, and she shook it with a wary grin.

"Agent Phil Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D. We've received several reports of the recent occurrences in Pawnee, primarily in the area around Ramsett Park. Are you at all aware of this?"

"Oh, you mean the weird, sharky, birdy things? And the portal? We thought that was just Zorp!" she said.

"Pawnee's resident cult, the Reasonableists, held a potluck in Ramsett Park last Friday," she told the camera. "They claimed afterwards that they had successfully summoned their overlord. No one believed them until someone got eaten by the sparkly green vortex. It was very pretty! And also horrible."

Agent Coulson handed Leslie a manila folder. "We're bringing in a team to take care of it," he said. "They'll be here in approximately twenty minutes."

Ann opened the door to find, as usual, that Leslie had appeared, unannounced and out of breath. She held a clumsily-packed cardboard box, just big enough to be awkward to carry.

"Hi Ann!" she said.

Ann stared. "Why are you breathing so hard? Did you walk here?"

She looked out to the driveway and saw Leslie's car.

"No, no, I drove. I'm just excited," she said, and pushed past her to dump the box on the couch.

Its contents rattled. This was not, as far as Ann was concerned, a good sign.

"I need you to hide this stuff for me, okay, Ann? Okay."

"What's happening?" Ann asked, almost afraid to.

"Nothing. Nothing. It's just some old memorabilia that I can't have in my office right now because of very important top secret reasons." She brushed her hands off on her pants and nodded, satisfied. "Gotta go now. Bye, Ann!"

"What—"

"You're beautiful!" Leslie shouted as she closed the door behind her.

Ann approached the box, cautious, and looked inside, pulling out the large, round…thing sticking out of the box.

Why the hell had Leslie given her a replica of Captain America's shield?

Steve was uncomfortable with the way the young lady in front of him was staring at his shirt. Maybe she didn't like plaid.

"Uh, hi. I'm looking for a Ms. Knope?" he said.

Before she could answer, a blonde woman rushed in and gave the dark-haired one a panicked look.

"Hi Captain Rogers, sir, it's a pleasure—an honor—to meet you." She shook his hand enthusiastically as an older man walked by.

"Leslie," he said, "is that?"

"Yes, Jerry, go away," she hissed, and turned back to Steve with a smile.

Ron watched from his office.

"I don't know what is happening and I don't want to," he said.

Tom leaned over Donna's desk, bouncing with excitement. "Captain America. Is here. Here. In Pawnee."

Donna gestured to Leslie's office, eyes still on the computer. "And he'd better get his fine ass over here for an autograph before he leaves."

"Noooo," Tom whined, horrified. "What if Tony Stark shows up? I'm not dressed to meet Tony Stark!"

"Too bad, 'cause I most certainly am." Donna raised her eyebrows, nodding her head.

"There's so much I want to tell him," Tom said. "That he's my hero, that his suit is perfectly engineered for maximum awesome, that if things don't work out with him and Pepper Potts—"

"I'm going to have to defer to Pepper on that," said Tony, standing in the doorway.

"No," said Pepper Potts, behind him.

"I don't think you have any cause for concern, Ms. Knope," Steve said, taking advantage of her silence as she paused for breath.

"Leslie. Call me Leslie," she said with a smile.

"Leslie, I can assure you that we will do everything we can to solve this problem as quickly as possible. I have teammates studying the portal as we speak."

"Good, good," she said. "Can I also ask you for your autograph? Is that weird? Only, you're an American hero, and I'm a big fan of those. Heroes. Especially American ones. And just, you know, America in general."

Steve put a hand on her shoulder. "Let's focus on the problem for now."

The sun shone brightly in Ramsett Park, and Natasha squinted into the sky as she took in her surroundings. It was deserted, not what she'd expected, but she supposed when a vortex of sparkling energy appeared in a spot where you'd normally walk your dog, you'd avoid it.

"What the hell is it?" asked Clint, poking his head over the top of the funnel-shaped, green portal. "Where does it go?"

"We have no idea," said Coulson, adjusting his sunglasses. "That's why we have you here."

"Clint, don't get too close," added Natasha. "Someone fell in before."

"They were in a cult," he answered, as if that excused it. "A person who's in a cult is a person I have to believe got themselves sucked into this thing out of sheer stupidity."

"Be careful."

"What kind of town has its own cult?" asked Clint, ignoring her. "And who lets them have picnics in the local parks?"

Coulson's mouth twitched. "You'd be surprised," he said.

"This place is weird," Clint said. "I can already tell."

Judging by the way he'd already adapted to speaking to the camera, Natasha thought he might very well be correct.

"Hi," said the guy at Ann's door, twisting his fingers together as he spoke.

"Hi," she said, puzzled.

"I'm Bruce Banner," he said. "Agent Coulson told me I should meet with you, since we might need medical resources if anything gets out of hand—"

"Whoa, back up," she said. "Bruce Banner?"

"Yes," he said, and from the look on his face, he knew she knew.

"Your research is very impressive," she said with a small smile, and he actually laughed. "Now, if I invite you in for coffee, can you fill me in on what's happening?"

"Sure," he said, and moved to step inside.

She caught him on the arm before he passed her. "You're not going to…you know. Are you?" she said. "Sorry, I just. Can't really afford a new house."

"The Other Guy's not invited," he said. "He doesn't like coffee anyway."

Andy ran down the hallway, knocking over a chair, attempting to jump over it, and getting his legs tangled in the chair's and falling over.

"Are you in need of assistance?" asked a voice from above him, and Andy looked up.

"Dude," he said. "Is that a hammer? It's awesome."

"Yes, my friend," said the man, hauling him up by one arm. "It is called Mjolnir, and only I can wield it."

"Awesome," Andy said again. "What does wield mean?"

In the few hours since the Avengers had arrived, the portal had grown and engulfed several trees.

"Hill," Coulson said through his earpiece, "Please tell Fury we might be here longer than we thought."