In difficulties, God's presence cannot possibly become more obvious. His strength, His wisdom, and His love pull me close and never let go.
But the only thing I feel holding me close right now is an arm as thick as a tree trunk pinning me against my hotel door.
"Who are you working for!?"
He's very tall; dark hair, dark skin, angry eyes. Tattoos lace up his forearm, and a brutal-looking snake disappears beneath his gray t-shirt.
"I don't work for anyone; I'm a writer." I reply, "Besides that, my boyfriend happens to be incredibly rich so I don't even have to work if I don't want to. Not that I use him for his money-!"
"I said who are you working for!? You know what I mean!"
His breath smells like cheap cigarettes and gas station coffee, along with underlying morning breath.
I smell a creature of habit.
HA!
Literally.
I'm so funny.
"I really, really don't." I answer, "I don't work for anyone."
"You're lying!" he shrieks, and he pushes me hard against the wall. Nowhere I can go. The air huffs from my lungs and I skid a few inches against the wall.
"Ouch." I mutter, "Well, my friend, I'm gonna ask you to leave, please. I'm also gonna ask why you're after me."
"Y'know, lady, the less you know the better." he replies, stomping over to the window.
"Y'know, sweetheart, the more you talk, the better. If you're guilty, fine. Kill me now, get over with it. If not? I can help you."
"Yeah right." he chuckles humorlessly.
"I can. My best friend's boyfriend is one of the most powerful people in the country."
"How would I know you ain't lyin'?" he demands, and out comes a gun.
"How else could I get a room in a luxury hotel with a flashing 'no vacancy' sign? Only people who have their hands in too many cookie jars could have pulled that off."
"Why ain't you afraid of me!?" he shouts, and I do flinch at that.
"Well, because you're a person." I snap, "And I'm not afraid of people in general."
"What-"
"Hey! I think this young lady has had quite enough harassment for one day."
The man and I look to the doorway and we see Captain America, the hero trapped in time, the first Avenger, the super soldier born of science, the-
"Alfred, weren't you in the midst of rescuing me?" I point out, breaking the poor guy's excited announcement, because no, no, he really isn't Captain America, though the two could be twins, at least in appearance and physical ability.
"Oh yeah." he says quickly, and he adopts a fighting stance, legs slightly apart and bent at the knee, ready to take any impact. "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."
"Been there, done that." I mutter, crossing my arms.
"You ain't a superhero." says my assailant, "You just a wannabe teenager."
"Gee, thanks for stating the glaringly obvious and smashing down the barrier of my imagination to crush my hopes and dreams!" cries Alfred, throwing his hands down, his whole posture falling sadly, "Just go away!"
"Man, you crazy! You don't know who you're pickin' a fight with for this white chick! I'm outta here, this is crazy." The man shakes his head and pushes past me, aiming to shove past Alfred, too, though the very crazy kid solidifies his stance and effectively brings the hulking (LOL, that Marvel pun tho!) man to a halt.
"Man, you don't know how far I would go for her, or who I would pick fights with. Gimme Nick Fury himself and I'd put him in his place."
"I don't know what the heck you're talking about! Let me through!"
Then they struggle a little, shuffle back and forth a bit I guess (I kinda notice Autumn walk around the corner in the hall outside the room), then the gun goes off, the black guy runs, and Alfred falls to his knees, clutching his chest.
"I'VE BEEN SHOT!" he screams, throwing his hands out and falling back against Autumn dramatically, tears streaking his cheeks.
"Yeah, sure, and I'm the queen." says Arthur, appearing after having followed Autumn, "I keep telling you to eat more neatly. How will your drycleaner get that nasty tomato sauce stain out of that...remarkably ridiculous getup?"
"It's not ridiculous! Thanks for being the second person to crush my dreams today!" replies the hero, wiping his teary eyes.
"Get over it, Alfred." laughs Autumn, "I have something to boost your spirits."
"Like what?" pouts the wannabe.
"Like backstage passes into S.H.I.E.L.D."
~o0o~
"OHMYGOSH IT'S THE JARVIS DUDE THINGYMERBLOB!"
"Yes, that would be me. Only not me. I am a very complex creation."
"Yeah, yeah, don't get all caught up with your whole god complex, Vision." I say, "That'll lose any favor you have with me, which is actually a ridiculously large amount. I think you're neat."
Vision gives me a light, almost grateful, almost humble nod.
Then Alfred lets out a squeal that would rival that of a three year old being gifted a unicorn.
"It's him, it's him, it's really him! Oh my gosh, I'm freaking out."
Indeed so.
Totally not obvious.
Because the one and only Captain America, the real deal, walked into the room, speaking heatedly to the one and only Tony Stark, followed closely by the Asgardian, Thor, who has Black Widow and Hawkeye in tow. Good grief, the whole team.
Well.
'Cept for Banner.
But he was promised to make his entrance at a later point.
And I am grateful for that. Alfred would probably be stupid and work the poor guy up and then there would be a huge mess that, frankly, would be all his fault. And then we'd have to leave and probably never be invited back.
Such is the world in this day and age.
-.-
At first, Cap doesn't even notice us; in fact, Tony saw us first and tried to point out our presence to the seething captain. Alfred doesn't seem to care who notices us first.
He's just excited to be here, as we all are (except for Britain, possibly, but he notices the two spies and decides to take his chances with small talk. Spying is kinda his thing).
Cap's anger wanes when he does finally realize that there are people staring, and his 40s' courtesy kicks in. He offers a hand to Alfred, who takes it and shakes it, once, twice, thrice, then lets go, a moment away from being awkward.
"Gosh, Captain, what an honor." he says, surprisingly poised.
Then, sadly, he starts to babble.
"You remember the time you took out the German camp in '43? I funded that for you and your battalion. And, and, and, the time in New York? I mean, recently? I watched you from afar, and might I say it, you've got razor precision in the battlefield. I couldn't have picked a soldier more wisely myself. But I do pay for you and golly, are you spendy. Not as expensive as my girlfriend... HA, just kidding, you cost me millions."
Captain America looks at the fanboy, then to Tony, who gives a light shrug and laughs at the soldier.
Autumn decides to busy herself and join in Arthur's and the spies' conversation, leaving me to my own devices to find something to do.
Honestly, I don't know where my boyfriend is, but boy would he be jealous if he saw the way Tony looked at me and Autumn. Supposedly Pepper and he didn't work out too well and, while he wasn't a playboy anymore, throwing his money, body, and morals around, it didn't mean he wasn't interested in a couple young women that stopped by for no apparent reason.
And since Autumn busied herself with some random mathematical (or were they talking physics?) thingy with the other nerrrrrrds, Tony steps over to me and asks me what I do for a living.
" 'Living'?" I laugh at that, "Tony Stark, multi-billionaire, asking a starving artist what her art is."
"I happen to love art." he says, scratching behind his ear, a teasing grin on his face.
"I'm a writer." I tell him, "Novels."
"You could be my biographer."
"Riiiight." I say, smiling, "What was it you said would be the name of that..? 'Cheap trick and a cheesy one-liner'?"
"Gosh, that was a long time ago."
"Just a year and a half. News spreads like wildfire, especially when a multi-billionaire superhero is involved, and the internet keeps it well-alive." I say.
"Superhero?"
"Yes; kinda nice to have someone actually say it, huh?"
"Ehh." Tony shrugs, and grins at me again, "It doesn't really fit me."
"Sure."
Despite Tony not saying much yet, Francis is getting a run for his money. Tony's years of 'experience' have paid off in one way or another, and I'm a bit disappointed that I'm so easily wooed.
"So, Mr. Stark, what sort of payment would you be willing to give for me to type up your life?"
"I'd give you a tour of the Iron Man suit and take you for a spin. Whaddaya say?"
"You really find me so cheap?" I teasingly chastise, "You'd have to give me the whole suit, not just a tour and a ride. I mean, biographies, especially ones that have been commissioned, take a lot of effort and hours. I'm asking for at least a million bucks. I'd have to dig up details I don't wanna dig up, details /you/ don't want dug up, details S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't want dug up, and so on and so forth."
"All right, all right, I get it." replies Tony, that flirtatious smile still on his face, "I won't ask for any favors."
And he doesn't.
Until a monster of a call comes in, telling the team that Loki is back and looking for revenge.
Then I'm, like, almost as useful as Hawkeye.
XD What a mean joke, LOL!
Wait.
I just roasted myself, never mind.