Post-Avengers
Pre-Curse
…I don't know what I'm doing.
The White Rabbit is a portal jumper of a special sort. He doesn't need a magic hat like Jefferson's, or a magic bean like that pirate they had rather unfortunately encountered in Neverland. He is his own portal, and flows between the worlds with ease (if you call crawling on your hands and knees in the dirt and then falling for varying amounts of time 'easy'). He never gets trapped, never worries that his magic can be stolen.
But everything has a price.
The lands press against one another in a long line, except when they stack on each other in rows (parallel worlds that contain only slight differences between them, which Jefferson finds fascinating), and the Rabbit has to travel through that line linearly. He can't skip any but the parallel ones, yet he can move backwards or forwards as he wishes. This is his price.
And Jefferson pities him for it. Though the hat has its own set of rules, orderliness is not one of them. He can open any door he chooses as fancy strikes and stroll unhindered to the world it connects to. Order, both he and the hat have decided, is for boring folk.
Still, there is one thing he admits is an upside to the Rabbit's natural skill. He has to travel through all worlds, including those without magic. Jefferson's hat can only touch those with magic.
He's not sure if it's a rule, or just an annoying quirk, but this is one thing he wants to test the hat on. (The only reason Rumplestiltskin hires him in the first place is to find a magic-less world; he would use the Rabbit, but the little ball of fur is impossible to catch if he doesn't want to be caught, and he doesn't, not by the Dark One).
"Come on, Rabbit, give me a hint!" It's a slow day in this far corner of Oz, and Jefferson is between jobs right now. It's the perfect time to go exploring. "A direction to start with would be nice! What does it feel like?"
Something Jefferson had discovered in his first few jaunts around the hat was that each world (and its corresponding door) has a different energy unique to itself. Even the parallel worlds, to some degree, have a singular aura. The Enchanted Forest, for instance, is syrupy-sweet and almost drowning in magic, while Agrabah is sharp and its magic stretched thin. Jefferson often plays like he's dying with his need to know what a world without magic feels like. Is it flat? Bitter, empty, lemon scented?
"I can't help you."
Jefferson throws an arm over his eyes, and groans, "Urgh, Rabbit!"
The furry realm jumper rolls his eyes, and pulls his watch from his blue velvet waistcoat. He's well used to Jefferson's theatrics, and most of the time he tolerates the man because he finds him amusing. But today the clock is ticking forward alarmingly fast.
"You're wasting your time, Hatter," he says in a small but insistent voice.
Jefferson inwardly cringes at the name, more so than the rebuking (he's been getting the same song from the rabbit for years now and he stopped expecting a new tune a long time ago). He hates being called Hatter. It's so impersonal. And he's sure that Rabbit hates being called so just as much, but they don't trust each other enough to give their real names. A few deals and bump-intos here and there aren't enough to distract them from the knowledge that the Rabbit has terrible mental defenses and a low pain tolerance, and that Jefferson is as easily bought as a loaf of bread.
"Now," the Rabbit says, patting Jefferson's knee and picking up the small basket he hadn't noticed Jefferson stealing cookies out of earlier, "I've got six worlds left to jump and I'm late for tea with my cousin. I'd best be off."
Jefferson slouches, shakes his head. The bunny's always late for something and it ticks him off. He prefers to show up to things when it's convenient for him (unless, of course, he's meeting Rumple, and then he's always exactly on time. It's hard to jump worlds when one is a snail. He knows, he's tried) but then again, the hat can take him to any world, any when, and he supposes the other can't do that.
"You're welcome to join us, of course," the Rabbit offers, as a small, perfectly round hole opens up in the dirt in front of them.
"Aw, but the Hare is weird! And he's always throwing things at me." Jefferson shudders. "I'd rather not join your mad tea party, thank you. I'm going to go find myself a land without magic!"
The Rabbit shrugs and bounds off into his hole. The dirt seals up behind him and Jefferson is left alone. He takes his time wandering back through the forest the short way he and the rabbit had walked. It's a cool day, sunny and cloudless, not that he can really tell beneath the thin, unbroken canopy of leaves over his head. The forest is silent, and Jefferson picks his way across uneven, stony ground unhurried and undisturbed. Eventually, he comes upon the lone stone-and-emerald arch draped with ivy that serves as his gateway back to the hat, and steps through.
Cool, dark marble meets his boots as he enters the Realm Room. His footsteps echo up the red silk walls and off the various doors surrounding him. The ones that he can see are only a small portion of the worlds he has access to, and he's been to all of them. He needs to find a new one; one that leads to somewhere magic doesn't exist.
He walks to the centre of the Room and considers for a moment where in the whole of the infinite realms he wants to look today. Somewhere far away from Wonderland, he thinks, as steeped in magic as it is.
Jefferson closes his eyes, sticks his arms out, and spins himself around as he so often sees children doing. His thoughts guide the hat as it searches and when he opens his eyes five doors are spread out around the circular chamber. He stumbles, a bit dizzy, but hurries over to examine one.
It's silver, and shiny, made of metal. There's a thick handle on the left side under painted red script that reads 'caution - geniuses at work.' Thick hinges cover most of the right side, kind of useless in a hat where none of the doors touch the walls, but he supposes they're necessary in whatever world is on the other side. He just hopes they're not there to keep something dangerous inside, and that he isn't walking in the wrong way.
Because, he thinks as he ruffles his hair, he is going through. The land on the other side feels flat and lemon-fragranced, just like he asked for. So, Jefferson grasps the handle, turns it down, and gives the door a good push.
It swings open easily.
0o0o
Tony Stark has seen plenty of things since he first became a superhero. Evil family friends, backstabbing secretaries, aliens in New Mexico, glow-y mind controlling spears, aliens in New York…It's gotten his 'weird things' tolerance pretty high. So, when a man in way too much leather and with a little too much eyeliner on comes stumbling into his lab through a locked door, he doesn't give it too much thought.
He's alone except for JARVIS who's watching from both security cameras and the HUD in Tony's helmet. He's got a screwdriver in one hand, a half-finished glove from the latest Iron Man suit on the other, and a sweating glass of Scotch on the table. Metallica throbs from multiple speakers around the room, loud enough (thankfully) that Tony can't hear himself think. He doesn't hear the door open, either.
JARVIS cuts the music off and, startled, Tony glances up. Some handsome weirdo wearing more leather than a cow stands just inside the lab, his hands over his ears and his eyes opened wide. The door slowly closes behind him and Tony can see one of the framed schematics of the first Iron Man suit on the beige wall of the next room before it shuts.
"You have a visitor, sir." JARVIS announces inside the helmet.
"Really?" Tony deadpans. "What have I told you about letting strange men into the Tower, J?"
"Absolutely nothing, sir. We haven't talked about 'stranger danger' since you brought that blonde home in Malibu."
Tony finds he doesn't have an answer to that. He watches as the strange man slowly lowers his hands and looks around curiously until he sees Tony. He stiffens.
"How'd he get in here, JARVIS?"
"Uncertain at this point, sir, but the room he came through was quite empty before he opened the door."
Tony stands up, aims the glove at the fruitcake with the ascot. It's only half put together and isn't much more than a glorified flashlight at this point, but if he's dumb enough to break into Avengers Tower then Tony figures he's not likely to call his bluff.
"Who the Hell are you?" Tony demands out loud, his voice tinny through the helmet.
"Forgive me; there's not usually anyone on the other side when I come through these things." The man turns and glares at the door like it's let him down somehow. Then he looks at Tony and smiles. It's dazzling, and lights his whole face up (though it's kind of a dark, reddish, ominous sort of light, Tony thinks, and decides to classify it as a leer). "I'm Jefferson."
"Charmed. How'd you get in here?" Tony drops the screwdriver, keeps the repulsor glowing, and steps cautiously closer. He hopes there's nothing wrong with JARVIS that this man has made it up a hundred plus floors unhindered. He has just finished recalibrating the sensors to detect Thor beaming in before the demigod arrives; he was a bit drunk at the time though, maybe he touched something he shouldn't have.
"Through the door," is the cheeky answer. "I'm a portal jumper from another realm. Apologies for dropping into your home unannounced."
Tony lifts the faceplate with a small cue to JARVIS and the man relaxes a little. "Another realm?"
"I'm a peaceful explorer, I promise. I mean no harm." Jefferson holds his jacket open and Tony gets a good look at the black leather pants, red leather vest, and the inside of the brown leather coat. He wonders what possessed the man to make him leave the house wearing all of that. "Look, I've got no weapons."
JARVIS scans him and quietly confirms it. Tony lowers the glove (his arm was starting to hurt anyways). "And you just happened to show up in my Tower…how?"
Jefferson shrugs. "I don't control where the hat opens its doors."
There's a moment of silence as Tony studies the stranger, and then, "Ohh," he cheerily drawls. "You are high as a kite. You need to meet the others! I'm Tony Stark, by the way, on the off chance you don't know whose tower you just broke into."
He waves the man closer and then leads him out of the lab. At the very least, Clint (he'd prefer Natasha but Miss Espionage is halfway around the world right now) can keep an eye on the guy while Tony wheedles out a proper answer and possibly does some blood tests. If he is from another realm, and not just some nut with a leprechaun's blessing of luck, it will show up. And then they can ask the fun questions.
Jefferson hesitates at the elevator, wondering what the purpose of such a tiny, empty room is. But the other just explains that it's a lazy alternative to stairs and that the people he wants to introduce are at least seven floors down.
Tony finally convinces Jefferson to join him and presses the button for the community floor. He's a bit disappointed when the man who doesn't recognize simple technology is only a bit impressed by the doors opening to a different hallway. But then, he supposes, if the guy does open portals in doorways, this would be a familiar cup of tea.
As they step out of the elevator, Jefferson perks up and comments on the opulent décor. It's all the invitation Tony needs to blather on about the richest floor in his green-energy masterpiece of a building. He shows off the gold-framed paintings and the million dollar trinkets sitting open on sculpted pedestals as they pass, boasting as he hasn't had a chance to since Steve's last chewing out. He thinks that maybe he might keep this intruder who keeps switching between asking where the torch sconces are and wondering aloud how Tony came by such an impressive collection. He knows it's just calculated blandishing of course, but it's a nice change from the ingrates he lives with who don't even pretend.
He's about to ask Jefferson about his world when he hears a door opening in front of them. Steve stands in the threshold to let them pass, but he freezes when they do. Tony ignores the soldier, but Jefferson gives him a curious stare as they go by.
"…Bucky?" comes a whisper behind him, and Jefferson turns, curiosity in his expression. He barely ducks the swinging punch that cracks the concrete wall beside them.
"Steve!" Tony shouts, throwing his hands up and stepping forward to fend off another attack.
"Who are you?!" the blond, at least a head taller than either of them, demands. He pushes Tony to the side and drags Jefferson closer by the collar of his leather jacket.
Jefferson doesn't stutter but he definitely flinches. Physical violence has never been his thing. "My name is Jefferson! I'm-"
"Why do you look like him?" Steve gives him a shake, and Jefferson's head snaps back.
"Like who?" he yelps. His neck aches and he's in a new world that he doesn't understand and he's being manhandled for an answer he doesn't have. Some context would be lovely! He tries to pry the other man's hands off his coat but his fingers are as immovable as stone.
"Steve, let him go!" Tony puts a hand on the man's shoulder, holds his gaze when furious blue snaps to stare at him. "This guy's some kind of alien. He's from another world, like Thor. Except when Thor says 'realm' he means 'planet on the other side of the universe,' and when this guy says it I'm pretty sure he means 'other dimension.'"
Steve gives Jefferson a quick look-over before dropping his hands. He shakes them out like they've been burned. Jefferson turns away, keeping Steve in his peripheral version, and flicks his collar back into place. The people in this land are crazy, he thinks. "Who's Thor?"
"Eh," Tony brushes the question away with a wave of his hand, "You might run into him later. Don't worry about it. This," he says, gesturing grandly to the blond, "is Steve Rogers, America's golden boy. Best stick to Captain America until he warms up to you a bit."
Jefferson eyes the Captain warily. "Pleasure," he deadpans, sticking out his hand.
"Likewise." Steve grits his teeth, and shakes just a little too hard, but Jefferson can see the hurt behind his eyes. His tongue itches to ask for the story that put it there.
"Cap, this is-"
"My name's Jefferson," he interrupts, "I'm a portal jumper from the Enchanted Forest." He grins smugly, like it's something to be proud of and not just the load of crazy it sounds like.
Steve glances at Tony, who shrugs and stage-whispers, "He walked through a doorway that JARVIS swears was empty beforehand, so I figured I'd just go with it."
Jefferson purses his lips and straightens his scarf, trying to ignore the two stares aimed his way. Usually he doesn't mind the attention (and he doesn't, really, everything is for show), but while he sort of trusts Tony not to snap him in half, he wonders at what kind of creature Steve Rogers is to punch through rock.
"JARVIS?" Steve isn't quite glaring, but his fists are clenching and opening with irate energy.
"Captain Rogers." The AI's voice is smooth and echoes around the hallway from somewhere in the ceiling.
Jefferson's eyes widen and he looks around delightedly. "You have a genie?"
"Scan him," Steve orders. "I want age, blood-type…planet of origin if you can."
"I've run all of the scans I can, Captain, but the results are incomplete. Something is interfering with my sensors."
"That'll be the magic," Jefferson says lightly.
"Well, what can you tell me?"
"He is approximately 23 years of age. And he is not from Earth."
"Thanks, J, I can take it from here," Tony says. Steve is as good as Clint for what he's about to do.
Tony pulls something small and square out of his pocket. He flips it over, feigning nonchalance, and then grabs the stranger's wrist, turns his hand over, and jabs his finger before he can react.
"Ow! What was that?"
"Blood sample." Tony grins. Steve twitches but doesn't argue, and he's relieved. He knows Cap needs answers too much to object to his invasion.
Jefferson looks alarmed and presses a finger over the bleeding pad of his thumb. "I need that back."
"Pff." Tony ignores him, grabs him by the elbow and steers him back in their original direction. He slips the needle into a slot on the wall as they pass. Rogers follows behind them silently.
"It's just a little blood, nothing to worry about. It's not like you can put it back now, anyway."
"It only takes a drop-" to make dark potions. But if they don't know that (because it's impossible to miss the looks Tony gets whenever he mentions magic, and he's desperately hoping he's got the right world even though he knows he hasn't) then he isn't going to clue them in.
"Well, I only took half a drop, so you're fine, fancypants. C'mon, I want you to meet Bruce." He figures that if JARVIS can't make sense of the man's DNA, maybe the good doctor can. And it hasn't escaped him just how awed Jefferson seems at the technology around him. He looks more out of place than Steve did on the surveillance tapes of his first few weeks, which Tony's only seen because he hacked into SHIELD so many months ago at the start of this whole Avengers business. He wants to put the man in a nice big room full of big shiny computers and leave him stranded, just to see what he'll do.
Jefferson remains silent all the way to the common room, brooding about the blood sample. Steve too, though Tony thinks he's probably brooding about something else. When they get there, the hallway opens up into a circular room bigger than most people's houses, both lengthwise and vertically. A widescreen TV takes up most of the wall to their immediate right, playing some muted, old-school black-and-white movie Tony doesn't recognize. Clint is sleeping, sprawled upside down on an armchair with his hearing aids next to him, his head hanging over the edge, and one foot propped on the back. A couple of other chairs and two couches are scattered around the room, the majority of them facing the television. A small kitchenette is tucked in the back of the room, empty at the moment, but stocked with snacks and all of Tony's favourite kinds of alcohol.
Jefferson is lucky enough to take most of it in before he notices the movie screen. When he does, his eyebrows disappear into his carefully chaotic hair and his black-lined eyes widen.
"It's...like the Queen's mirror." Only bigger, and, rather than holding only a single face, it appears to be a whole host of players running about. He can only imagine what horrible things those people had done to end up trapped in there.
"Hey, why don't you stay here while I get Bruce?" Tony says, pushing Jefferson down onto the nearest couch and shoving a remote at him. "This movie doesn't look…too boring. Here's the volume, don't wake Barton, be back in a sec!" And he's gone.
Flabbergasted, Jefferson examines the thick wand in his hand. It's black and spotted with multi-coloured knobs. He can't remember which one Tony told him to press. He doesn't think the man actually pointed to any of them, just threw the wand at him and ran.
Steve, standing behind the couch, uncrosses his arms to offer grudging help when JARVIS' low voice interrupts.
"Captain Rogers? May I speak to you in private?"
Jefferson glances up sharply and his eyes follow Steve out of the room.
It's unnerving, having a man who looks so much like his best friend sitting in the Tower, and Steve feels his gaze on his back. He ducks into the first empty room he finds and shuts the door behind him.
"What is it, JARVIS?"
"Am I right, sir, in thinking that your discomfort about Mr. Stark's new guest stems from his resemblance to Sgt. James Barnes?"
Steve inhales sharply. "Yeah."
"I have analyzed the blood sample Mr. Stark collected and I can assure you that they are not the same man."
Steve nods to the empty room, knows that JARVIS can 'see' on any of the many monitors he's sure litter the place. He isn't sure whether he feels relieved or not. "Thanks JARVIS."
"If Mr. Jefferson is indeed from another realm, as he originally claimed, it may simply be that-"
"Thank you. JARVIS. Really. I'll be fine." Steve turns around, puts his hand on the doorknob. "I understand that you'll need to tell Stark if he goes looking, but unless he asks, can you…keep that information to yourself?"
"Of course, Captain."
Steve takes two steps out into the hallway before JARVIS adds, "You might want to rescue Mr. Jefferson from Agent Barton, Captain."
Steve quickens his pace, nearly runs the short distance to the common area as he mentally slaps his wrist. He'd left some medieval dandy alone in a room with a sleeping assassin; Clint may not be as trigger-happy as Natasha but he is just as deadly, and they'll be lucky if the stranger is still alive.
He makes it in time to see Barton stick a knife up to the portal jumper's bare throat. The assassin's got a grip on the puffed red ascot, and he's backed the man against the left wall. Jefferson's hands are raised in surrender, but for some reason he doesn't look too afraid. Steve thinks he might be crazy.
Steve moves into Clint's peripheral vision and holds a hand out, palm forward and fingers straight, the ASL sign for stop. "Hawkeye, stand down."
Clint turns just slightly to get a better look at him. Steve nods pointedly at him, and the assassin pushes away, wrenches his purple hearing aids from between the stranger's fingers.
Jefferson scowls and fixes his neckpiece. "I just wanted to look. Is that normally how people in this world greet one another, or am I just special?"
Before Steve can answer, Tony steps into the room with Bruce and drawls, "Well, you did pick the biggest tower full of the world's most paranoid people to drop in on. So, it's kinda your fault."
"I don't pick where the hat opens its doors," Jefferson says again. He sizes up Bruce, and then gives an elegant, if not greatly exaggerated, bow. The man is, after all, the only one in this place who hasn't tried to kill him at first sight. It's a nice change of pace for a poor fellow whose job usually ends up with him running for his life.
There's a beat of silence after he straightens out wherein Bruce's expression turns dazed and he gives a little wave in return. Then Tony shakes his head and spins to his companion and blurts, "That's twice he's said that. Does that sentence actually make sense to anyone? Because if it does, I'm going to feel very put out. I'm supposed to be the genius."
Barton rolls his eyes, and Steve almost joins him.
"So, can anyone tell me why there's some nut with a leather fetish prancing around the tower by himself? Tony?" Clint looks rather accusing and Tony can't help but take that personally.
"Don't give me that look, Katniss. Why would it be my fault? Why is it always my fault? Bruce, tell featherhead it's not always my fault."
"It is always your fault, Tony." Bruce ignores the billionaire's pout and walks over to the stranger. He extends one hand, keeps the other tucked close and fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt. "Bruce Banner," he says.
"Jefferson." He considers adding 'at your service,' but the last time he did that, he ended up being assigned a contract killing, and getting out of that with his limbs still attached hadn't been easy.
"So, what was that about hats and doors?" Banner asks, dropping his hand and stepping back. He doesn't offer anyone to sit and Jefferson tries not to take it to heart; they're a little weird in this world.
"I'm a portal jumper," Jefferson says, and he wonders how many more times he'll end up saying it before the day is done. "My portal opens doors to other lands, like this one, Wonderland, the world without colour…" he flaps his hand as he trails off. He doesn't want to explicitly state that his portal is his hat, though he's sure it isn't too hard to figure out with everything he's already said. He's hoping they'll forget about that bit if they ever try to find their way through to it.
"Wonderland?" They look skeptical.
"You've heard of it?"
"Oh yeah," Tony says, "Pretty much every kid on Earth has read Alice in Wonderland."
"Who's Alice?" Jefferson silently weighs the possibility of her being a portal jumper like himself, and wonders if she's still around. Maybe he'll run into her some time, and she can explain this strange world to him over tea like decent folk.
Tony's face scrunches up in a way that silently says, 'never mind, it's not important.' "So how'd you pick our fabulous world-door to bust through uninvited?" He walks over to the couch and flops down on it.
Slowly, everyone follows to claim seats of their own. Barton chooses a chair facing Jefferson, and waits until everyone else is seated before plopping down. Steve sits on the stranger's immediate left; Bruce takes the couch with Tony.
"I was looking for a world without magic," Jefferson admits, lounging in the most comfortable armchair he's ever had the pleasure of resting on, "and yours is the closest I've found."
"What do you mean 'closest?' Magic doesn't exist," Tony says.
Jefferson scoffs and looks between the other men, eyebrows raised. "You must have some magic," he says.
Steve shrugs, Bruce tips his head, and Clint just blinks.
"Magic is for babies. It's fairytale. Not real." Tony is adamant.
"Bu-"
"Stark, don't tell me you haven't you heard the reports about Steven Strange?" Clint speaks over Jefferson, voice incredulous. Tony is usually bouncing around like an excitable eight-year-old trying to dig up all of SHIELDs secrets; he doesn't believe he hasn't uncovered this one.
"What about the Tesseract?" Steve adds.
"Or Thor and Loki," Bruce chimes in.
"Or-"
"Yeah, whatever." Tony waves off Steve's next smartass answer. "So there's technology we don't understand yet. It doesn't mean that magic is a thing."
"But magic exists, you must realize that!" Jefferson says. He leans forward in his seat, waves around hands weighed down by thick rings as he asks, "Can you not feel it? It's thin and faltering here, true, but it's still here. I can feel it in your friend, there."
He points to Clint, and Barton tenses; there's only one reason he'd feel anything like magic, and he hasn't got a chance to put an arrow through its eye yet. But it's been months. Loki's magic is still in him? Outwardly, he shuts down.
Jefferson notices, and has the decency to look apologetic. Obviously, the assassin's encounter with magic hadn't been a pleasant one.
"Prove it," Tony says suddenly.
"What?"
"Prove to me that magic exists. Go…turn Steve into a frog or something."
Jefferson sinks back into his chair, lifts his hands in a kind of shrug. "I don't have magic."
"You don't have magic?" Steve challenges.
Jefferson looks at him like he's just said the dumbest thing he's heard in a long time, "Of course not. Not everyone has magic."
"What about your magic portals?" Clint asks.
"It's a unique skill." And mostly about finding the right enchanted item at the right time and bonding it to you, but he doesn't think that bit's worth mentioning. He kind of needs that hat.
"Right, so you can't prove that magic exists. There you go, someone give me a cigar! Actually, give it to Bruce, I don't like to be handed things and he looks tense."
"I didn't say that." Jefferson leans forward again, indignant. "Why don't you come on a trip with me? Name a world. I can take you to any time, any place you can think of. They'll all have magic."
"Any time?" Steve breathes. His words go unnoticed except by Clint, who shoots him an unreadable look.
"You think," Tony says slowly, "that I'll get in the car with some strange man just because he offers me candy?"
"…What?"
Bruce takes pity on him, and translates. "He means he doesn't trust you. You're an alien from a different dimension. Who's to say you won't kill us the second we turn our backs? Or lead us to a world with…with a toxic atmosphere and leave us there?"
Jefferson giggles. "Why would I kill you? You can't pay me if you're dead."
"Pay you?" Clint, somewhat bored or at least pretending, pulls a collapsible arrow out of some hidden pocket or other, and extends it. He doesn't miss the awed look on the stranger's face, so he starts twirling it around his fingers like a parade baton, only slightly showing off.
"Of course," Jefferson says. "Portal jumping doesn't pay the inns, you know. Gold does. If you accept the deal, I will take you to any one world and back, and will gladly take payment for my services."
"You're a charlatan," Tony accuses, delight curling one corner of his mouth up.
Jefferson just grins at them, all smugness and a complete lack of shame.
"Well, we'd love to take you up on that offer," Tony says, pushing to his feet, "considering you have something to prove and I, the genius billionaire skeptic, have something to disprove, but I am the only one who can afford your price, you thieving dandy, you, and I say wait up. Before any of the crazy happens, let's do some tests." He claps a hand on Bruce's shoulder. Banner looks torn between seeing an alien world and joining Tony on his mad scientist shtick.
The humour is gone from Jefferson's face now. "You already collected blood."
"Yep! And now we wanna do some other poke-y prod-y things with needles and scanners and see how your supposed other dimension ticks. The interference JARVIS is getting off of you is fantastic! Don't worry; the examinations won't hurt a bit. Might just be a slight pinch here and there. Unless ya fuss. Please don't fuss."
Jefferson slowly rises from his chair. He shakes his head and shrugs his hands, "Why don't we negotiate?"
"Does he look like he's fussing, Bruce? I think he looks like he's fussing." Tony takes several sauntering steps across the living room.
"Tony, if he doesn't want to-"
"Aw, c'mon! No one lets me touch Thor and he's just from a different planet! This guy's from another dimension! Think of the science, Banner."
Jefferson rolls his eyes, then turns and bolts. He'd been so close to making it through a deal in another world without having to run for his life, but there is always something.
He takes a chance and snatches the weird looking trinkets off the pedestals as he runs, and stashes them in his coat. He's had so much practice that it hardly slows him down. His goal is the door he entered through; one came in, only one can go back.
JARVIS keeps an eye on him. The AI lets the elevator take him to the right floor despite its occupant's confused button-pushing, and opens doors as needed. Mr. Stark's threatening bodily harm is a little unfair, after all, and the man has been attacked thrice today. Besides, the billionaire has been complaining about the decorations on this floor for weeks, and JARVIS never has liked them.
In the living room, Clint sighs. "I'll get him."
But Steve goes charging after the portal jumper before Barton can do more than bounce out of his seat, and they hear as he crashes into the wall when he fails to take the corner sharp enough. Barton just shrugs, swipes the remote off the floor, and collapses onto the couch with Bruce. Tony pouts in the corner.
The Captain catches up to the stranger at the entrance to Tony's lab. Why JARVIS has let him in he doesn't know or care; Steve tackles him over the threshold and they go sprawling onto the gleaming, metal-plated floor. He lands on top of the other man, and Jefferson wheezes as the air is knocked out of his chest. Steve climbs to his feet, drags Jefferson with him by his collar.
Jefferson coughs, and chokes out, "This is twice you've tried to kill me."
"If I wanted you dead," Steve says in a voice that leaves no room for doubt, "you'd be dead."
He pushes the other man back until his hips hit a metal counter, and he pins him there, ignoring the wince this elicits. "Earlier," Steve continues, "you said 'any time.'"
Jefferson stares up at the soldier. He pulls at Steve's hands; Steve drops them to his sides and takes a step back. "Yesss," he hisses through a sharp grin. "I can take you backward or forward. Just think of the time and the place you want to go, and we'll have an adventure…for a price."
Steve looks disgusted. The fact that this man has Bucky's face sickens him. But he has a chance right now to go back seventy years, to make things right if he can. If that means he has to deal with this slimy knockoff for a few hours, then he will. "…We don't use gold anymore."
Jefferson shrugs. "Can't help you, then."
He makes to walk past Steve, but the soldier grips his arm in a vise and pulls him back around to face him.
"I guess…" Jefferson concedes, "we could make a deal."
"What do you want?"
Truthfully, Jefferson doesn't need gold. He has gold. He was lying when he said portal jumping doesn't pay. His portal jumping pays very well in the employ of one Rumplestiltskin. But Jefferson has never been one to pass up the opportunity for more, whatever that more is. He taps his chin in thought.
Steve doesn't let it show how much this is hurting him. He stands there quietly while this twisted doppelganger puts on a show. He doesn't care what the price will be; he'll pay it gladly.
Finally, Jefferson holds up one ring-heavy finger, opens his mouth-
And the Tower bucks underneath them. Something cracks, glass shatters. Jefferson is launched nearly off his feet and crashes into Steve. A siren starts to howl as red lights flash in the lab.
"Stay here!" Steve orders, shoving Jefferson to the ground and pushing him under the metal table. It's bolted to the floor; he should be fine. The stranger looks ready to have a heart attack.
Steve runs to the nearest intercom, built into the wall near the elevator, and jabs the button that will connect him to Iron Man. "Tony, what's going on?"
Stark's answer is breezy, but Steve can hear high wind whistling in the background, and the Hulk roaring. "Hm, we're cool." On cue, the sirens fade and the lights return to their normal static white. "Some bozo with a hot-air balloon tried to attack the Tower. Hulk's got him. But the basket kind of…exploded with some kind of purple goo. Gonna take forever to clean-"
Steve disconnects, drops his head against the wall. Keeping the Avengers as public figures is a bad idea, as he's told the rest of them after each attack on the Tower. Romanoff, Barton, and Banner agree with him, as does most of SHIELD. But until he and Bruce find places of their own, and the helicarrier gets rebuilt with rooms for the spies, they don't really have a choice.
He shakes his head once, and turns back to the lab.
The portal jumper isn't where he left him cowering under the table. Steve scours the lab, checks under the desks, inside all the cabinets that are big enough, behind the door the man had been running to. But he knows.
JARVIS confirms it.
He's missed his once chance at fixing things.
Jefferson is gone.
Several heartfelt apologies on the lack of women present in this. There will be more of the story, there will be more women in said 'more.'
Once again, I would like to stress that I have no idea what I'm doing.