Even though I've worked at a school for gifted students for several years, I can confidently say that I've never been in a room with such exceptional people before. Jean Grey and I exchange looks and the stars in her eyes are mirrored in mine. The Avengers. The earth's mightiest heroes in this classroom, wedged into too-small desks, politely waiting for Professor X and Director Fury to begin the meeting. Well, most of them, anyway. The one called Iron Man leans against the window sill, clearly too good for the desks. Logan stands with him, an unlit cigar perched on his bottom lip. I spare him a reproachful glance and nod at the empty seat beside me. He shakes his head and I can hear him in my mind as if I have telepathy: "Not a chance, babe."

Professor X clears his throat and the already quiet classroom gets quieter still. Beside me, the Black Widow untucks her legs from under her bottom and leans forward like an eager student. Hawkeye is perched on the desk beside her, eschewing the chair altogether. The two give Professor X attentive looks. I turn away from them, determined not to be another starstruck fan. I have pulled clouds from the sky to drown my enemies. I am pretty impressive myself. This thought bolsters me and I turn my attention to Professor X as he continues a sentence whose beginning I have missed.

"...between our two groups could benefit the planet and quite possibly the known universe. In the event of another crisis like that in New York last year, more troops could save lives." Here Professor X looks at Iron Man, who has made a scoffing sound.

Iron Man tilts his metal head. "I think we handled ourselves just fine," he says.

"You died," Scott points out. He is seated two to the left of me and I can only see the back of his head, but his tone suggests he is wearing that long-suffering expression reserved for Logan and Jehovah's Witnesses.

Iron Man shrugs. "I made a miraculous recovery."

Another of the Avengers-of medium build and quiet attitude-clears his throat and the metallic man adds, "With a little help from a friend."

Dr. Banner nods, gratified.

"Maybe if we had a little more help, no one would need to die in the first place," Director Fury says. He raises his chin and glares at Iron Man. I hide a smile behind my hand. Director Fury is like a grim dad.

Iron Man shrugs again. "We barely work as team with just the six of us. You want us to take on a bunch of professors." I curl my lip at him. His arrogance is less charming than Logan's. Jean and I trade looks again and I am unsurprised to see a glimmer of interest in her eyes. For all that Jean is happily married to a good, kind man, she has a soft spot for assholes.

Director Fury narrows his good eye. "Anyone else from the Avengers feel this way? That we barely work as a team now? That we don't need any help?" His belligerent tone does not invite more criticism of the plan.

The crew-cut man-Captain America-speaks up. "I say we can use all the troops we have, so long as our goals and values are the same."

"Simmer down, Captain Patriot." Iron Man mutters.

Black Widow and Hawkeye are silent.

Thor-the massive blond with the hammer-stands. He looked ridiculous crammed into one of the desk-chair combinations meant for children a third his size. "I cannot always be here to attend to human matters," he says like an actor on a Shakespearian stage. "I would rest easy knowing there are many to fight in my stead."

Logan chuckles. I watch as Thor retakes his seat, unembarrassed, sincere to the core. It is a rare sight, a man giving a heartfelt opinion without a shred of awkwardness. Then again, he is a god. What are the opinions of mere mortals to him?. Thor's eyes rest on me for a split second and my heart clatters .

"That was very eloquently put, Son of Odin," Beast says. He claps a large, blue hand on Thor's shoulder.

The god's eyebrows raise in surprise, but to his credit, he recovers quickly.

"What is your power, Blue Son of Earth?" he asks politely.

Before Beast can answer, Director Fury claps his hands together. "That's a good idea, Thor. Why don't you all mingle and get to know each other. It'll help faciliate friendliness."

Logan growls impatiently and pushes off from the wall. "I don't have time for this shit." He stalks from the room.

There is an awkward bubble of silence, before Tony turns to Colossus. "So, uh, what's your suit made of?"

I don't hear Colossus answer, because suddenly every one is talking to everyone. Jean plucks at my sleeve. "Can you believe Logan?"

"I don't know how he manages with all that snark and ego!" I retort.

"He could learn a thing or two from Metal Man." She jerks her head in Iron Man's direction: he has assembled a fan club quickly and is entertaining them all with the tricks of his suit.

"His name is Iron Man," I correct.

"And I thought our names were stupid," Jean quips.

"Phoenix is a lovely name," a voice intrudes. Jean and I look up at Thor, then hastily jump to our feet to reduce the height difference. He still towers over us.

"Thanks," Jean says, clearly flustered. "It could have been worse."

"It could have been Storm," I joke.

Thor turns his serious gaze on me. I have always stood eye-to-eye with most men, but my nose barely grazes Thor's gold-stubbled chin. It's a real superhero kind of chin, too. It juts forward from the hard lines of his jaw with a sort of righteous attitude. If I were less self-possesed, I might feel a little weak-kneed right now. Especially as I remember that Thor is a god. A god with eyes as blue as lightning.

"Storm," Thor repeats. "You are the one who commands the skies ."

A laugh bubbles up at his quaint phrasing. "Something like that," I say.

"I would love to see you some time," he says, "See your skills. I have never met anyone else like me."

Another laugh escapes my lips. It's like my brain has turned to champagne bubbles, though I haven't had a sip to drink. "I'm no god," I say. "And I hardly have the most interesting power in the room."

"It doesn't do to underestimate ourselves," Thor says. He takes my hands in his to punctuate his statement. I don't pull away.

Jean clears her throat. "I think I'll just go meet Dr. Banner, now. I'm a big fan of his work."

Thor nods and he releases my hands. I can feel the warm imprint of them. I've always liked men with big, hot hands. "I hear you are also a scientist," Thor is saying to Jean.

She nods, then looks embarrassed. I can guess why. "Is that all you heard?" she asks. I wonder if she looks into his mind as she asks this. I don't know what kind of etiquette she follows with her telepathy powers.

Thor smiles sympathetically and places one large hand on each of Jean's shoulders. "I heard you lost control once. I heard that you brought yourself back from the brink with the help of friends. Bruce will empathize with your journey." He pats her arms. "You are a brave woman. Do not worry what others think of your missteps."

Jean's eyes glitter and she dashes away.

I am left alone with the god of thunder. "You handled that very well," I say.

"Handled?" Thor repeats. "I merely spoke the truth."

I look away from Thor to Jean speaking with Dr. Banner. Her eyes are animated and she moves her hands wildly. Across the classroom, Scott and Iron Man are having an intense conversation. Scott still has scars from Jean's loss of control. "There are different versions of the truth," I say, strangely compelled to explain this to Thor, although it may be disloyal. "In some versions, Jane went absolutely insane and evil."

Thor folds his arms over his chest. They are roped with muscle and covered in light, gold hairs that glint in the light. "I am not interested in that version of truth. It is irrelevant to the path the Phoenix is on now. She flamed too bright and has been reborn to try again."

I consider him, for a moment too flummoxed to give a proper response. "Gods really are better than humans," I say.

Thor shakes his head. "Humans are capable of a great deal. And besides, my brother is a god and he is not better than the least of you. He is-" Thor searches for the words. I touch his wrist to let him know that words are unnecessary.

"He has lost control," I say.

Thor nods and runs a hand through his hair. If he were anyone but a god, I would say his hair is too long. As it is, I'd like to run my hands through it. It is the color of wheat with shades of rye beer and expensive champagne thrown in for contrast. Models pay through the nose for those kind of highlights. I realize that I have been staring at him too long, but then again, he has also been staring at me.

"What are the odds," I say-my mouth dry. I manipulate the air around me to pull in more moisture and continue, "What are the odds that a being from another world could so closely resemble the people of earth?" I touch his chest for emphasis. It is hard and unyielding.

Thor shrugs his broad shoulders. "The mysteries of the universe are vast and impenetrable. What are the chances that I-a being from another planet, wielder of lightning and hammer-would meet you, a wind dancer, a rain whisperer, an artist of cloud and snow?"

A smile tugs at my lips. "You do know how to turn a phrase," I say.

Thor frowns. "I have been told my speech is antiquated," he admits.

I look around the classroom at my colleagues and the Avengers, talking about our powers and the world. "Everything is moving forward so fast. We could use a little antiquated."

"Did someone ask for something old?" Captain America asks, joining Thor and me. He salutes me smartly. "Steve," he says, "Steve Rogers. Someone told me you're a queen."

"Was a queen," I correct. Before Thor can ask the question on his lips, I continue, "You were frozen in the ocean, right? Or is that just another rumor?"

"For eighty years," Steve says. "So I know a little something about antiquated. Although," he covers his mouth and mock-whispers, "Shakespeare here puts me to shame."

Thor looks around. "I do not know this warrior Shake Spear," he says.

Steve and I laugh and Thor smiles with amused confusion.

"That's enough chit chat for now," Director Fury booms over the hubbub. The noise dies down almost immediately except for the Iron Man, who is drawing a complex diagram of Scott's glasses. I squint to make out the numbers and symbols on the chalkboard.

"If we just add this here, we can fine-tune the projection of the beam to one-tenth of a..." The chalk stills on the board as Iron Man becomes aware of the quiet classroom.

"You can finish your science project later," Director Fury says. I am impressed at the authority of his one-eyed glare. Iron Man crosses his ams over his chest and puts on an exaggerated show of attentiveness.

"We are pleased that this first meeting has gone so well," Professor X intoned. "And we are eager to begin training and planning between our two groups. The initiative is off to a wonderful start."

Director Fury knocks his knuckles on the cherry wood desk. "Alright then, my guys, let's go. Helicarrier's waiting."

"Avengers assemble," Tony says. His tone is mocking, but the Avengers team comes to the front of the classroom anyway. Before he takes his leave, Thor cups my shoulders in his big hands. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Storm."

The way he says my name imbues it with the beauty it has always lacked in mortals' mouths.

"Ororo," I say. "That's my real name."

"Ororo," he repeats.

Behind us, Iron Man is saying loudly to Scott: "I'll email you the new designs tomorrow morning. Do you by any chance know the measurements of your head? And nose width?"

"I will see you in training," Thor says. He picks up his hammer and I feel the electric current that passes between him and his weapon. It makes the hairs on my arms stand up.

And then he and his team are gone.

Jean sidles up to me, smiling. "So..." she says, letting the syllable dig inquisitively.

"They were nice," I say, denying Jean a single crumb of girl talk.

"They were also suspiciously beautiful. All of them. Did you notice?"

"I did," I say, gathering my coat and bag. Absently, I doodle cirrus clouds into wispy formations above.

"That Natasha sure knows her way around Spandex," Jean goes on. "And Dr. Banner, talk about your silver fox. You'd never guess he goes all..." Jean makes a grr face. "And Thor," she continues. "The man, the myth, the legend, am I right?"

I come out of the skies. "He seems like a competent ally," I say. I sweep from the room with a grin.

Behind me Jean scoffs. "A competent ally?" she repeats. "Really?