In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated

Chapter 1: Woman Scorned

I shivered in the warmth of the late afternoon sunlight. The damp grass under my legs chilled me. I watched as a huge man with huge hair and huge calf muscles grabbed one of Aspen's rugby team members by the back of the neck and threw him down with little effort. The whistle blew.

The Gents, the team Gabe played for, were having their asses handed to them by a team from England who wore polka dot jerseys and huge muscles. Gabe, garbed in the red and black stripes of the Gents, had laughed when he saw the opponent's uniform. He wasn't laughing now. My ex-boyfriend was hunched over, hands on knees, breathing hard and probably swearing loudly. I couldn't hear it; he was at the other end of the field.

I hadn't watched any of his games this summer, and I had promised him I would watch at least one. The yearly tournament Aspen hosted called Ruggerfest seem as good as time as any.

And I had to get out of the house.

So on my day off from teaching at a local dance studio, I had walked Pogo, my neurotic, ginger-colored Cockapoo down to the field. I had known it wasn't a good idea to bring him. I did it anyway; I didn't want to be alone. Pogo was bonkers around other dogs and people.

I had his leashed tightly wound around my hand. He sat on my feet, whining and shaking as all the other dogs either rode calmly in doggy purses the Aspenites carried, or peed on electrical boxes, or barked at one another happily. I pulled Pogo into my chest and he licked my chin gratefully. We were a good couple, Pogo and I; we were both a little crazy.

I was cold, even with my long-sleeved shirt and jacket. Other people lounged in the shade of the evergreens lining the filed, in shorts and tees, some men without shirts. I got a few strange looks from passersbys. I chose not to be near the crowds seated on the temporary bleachers. I sat at the end of the field, in the soft sunlight.

Golden aspen leaves fell on me when the wind brushed the trees overhead. Pogo watched, concerned, as the shadows of the leaves flitted over the grass, tracking where each one fell so he could destroy it later.

I wished it felt good to be outside on such a nice autumn day. The mountains towering over town were mottled with changing colors—reds, yellows, and oranges mixed in with the shades of greens. The sky was blue like only a Colorado sky could be.

But I hadn't felt good, or warm, for months.

Another Gent was taken down yards from where I sat. I heard the bodies smack one another as men piled on top. I still didn't quite understand the rules of the game. I got that it was a bit like football, but the problem was, I had no idea how football worked either. Rugby was rough. That much was clear. Gabe had broken his collar bone three times over the years of playing on the Gents' team.

The greasy hot smell of french fries and hamburgers wafted down from the over-priced, local beef using burger joint. It made me want to gag. My stomach already hurt enough as it was. Pogo whined. I thought about going home before the match was over, but decided against it. I didn't think my mother had had enough time to calm down. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

She had thrown her phone at me this time. She missed, uncoordinated as she was, but it was the thought that had counted. The intent.

My mother had gotten worse since I had come home. Talking to her on the phone that day in New York was just a preview of her fury. I knew that my temporary disappearance wasn't the only reason she was so out of sorts. I knew it was that Thor had been on earth, and Loki. It was all over the news. My Asgardian brothers, from whom she stole me, were closer to catching her than they had ever been.

But she didn't know that I knew, and I had to keep it that way, because as soon as she knew, she would be uncontrollable. The reason I came home was to keep her happy, so that she wouldn't do anything stupid, like destroy Earth.

At least SHILED told me that she could do that. I laughed at them, at first, skeptical. But Coulson had shown me a file he had been working on, while he was pretending to be dead. The file told an undeniable truth. A truth that has haunted me.

My mother has lied to me for almost twenty years. She told me I was adopted. She did not tell me that she kidnapped me to get back at my family for putting her in prison, and then exiled us on Earth, used magic to conceal our location and raised me as her own.

The file said she was a dangerous enchantress. I had pictured Snow White's stepmother, offering her a poison apple. My mother was not that. She may be Asgardian, and an enchantress, but she was not evil.

And despite everything, the lies, what she had done, and her temper as of late, I still loved her. It was down to my bones that I loved her. It was my very being, and there was nothing I could do to stop loving her. She and I had always been together.

When I told Director Fury I was going home even though I was knowingly heading into the arms of an angry alien enchantress, he had literally laughed.

"Now you decide to grow a spine."

I really didn't miss that guy.

I went through an angry couple of weeks when I got back to Aspen. My leg had indeed healed, but the muscle had atrophied in the boot, leaving me with a leg that could walk, run and skip, but not dance in pointe shoes. My ankle was weak and gave out if I tried to perform the pieces I had learned for the summer season. Carina, my understudy took my parts.

I was more irate than I had ever been at that point. I was mad at my mother for what she was and what she did and what she did not tell me. And I was mad at my leg for not being strong enough. I was especially mad at my fellow company members, the artistic director, my physical therapist, and Carina, all telling me that it was ok to take one season off to heal fully from what they thought was a bad ankle sprain and a stress fracture in my knee.

When I was too tired to be mad I cried where no one could hear me, which was pretty much on hiking trails and in the shower. I felt sorry for myself for a while, slept a lot. My mother didn't help. She pried. She wanted to know what the problem was. One season of missed dancing wasn't the end of the world.

She was convinced that I was lying about my trip to Germany, which I was. But I had to persuade her that it was just dance-related depression. I am not generally a great liar, so I distanced myself from her.

It scared her. The ferocity of her needing to know that I was lying scared me. I began to realize that Coulson was right: my mother was dangerous. The further I pulled away, the harder she clung. Me coming home to keep her happy was a joke. We were both miserable. All my decision to stay on Earth had gotten me was a fear of my own mother, a boat load of loneliness, and an ulcer.

So when I told her I was moving to New York, you can imagine how she reacted. And that reaction was precisely why I was now sitting on sodden grass with Pogo, instead of at home.

Pogo squirmed out of my arms and began to pull up mouthfuls of turf, tossing them to the side with pig-like grunts. His tail went wild. At least he was happy.

I pulled my legs into my chest, wrapped my arms around, and rested my chin on my knees. My eyes closed. The sunlight played over my heavy eyelids. The crowd clapped and cheered. Someone scored a try. I at least knew that much terminology.

Pogo barked and I opened my eyes to see black bird that had landed not five feet away. It was huge and its feathers reflected daylight. It perched, not startled by the noise my dog was making. It cocked its head, staring me down creepily.

Just what I needed, an ominous sign.

Pogo pulled at his leash that was attached to my wrist in a sudden burst of energy. I was much bigger and stronger than him, though. I closed my eyes again. I ignored the bird and all the black thoughts it brought me. The dog did not ignore it. He fought bravely against his leash, plucking my arm away from my legs in inches.

"Hi there buddy," a male voice intoned. Pogo yapped more vigorously and I opened my eyes again, ready to reel my dog in before he peed on another stranger.

I didn't believe what I saw. My heart dropped, squeezed out all the blood and then turned over in my chest. It was a trick. Or I had fallen was a night mare. No, a dream come true. Anything but real. It couldn't be.

I blinked into the sunlight, trying to get a better look at the man standing above me. It was just a trick of the light, I told myself. Not who I thought it was.

Pogo gave up on trying to be ferocious and rolled over for a tummy rub. The man bent to comply.

It was no trick.

It was Steve.

I was light headed. I couldn't feel my feet. He wasn't supposed to be here. Was I breathing?

"Siri!" Another male voice called to me. It was Walter, my sixty-five year old step-father in his plaid old man shorts and polo shirt with a beer in one hand, waving at me from down the sidewalk I sat in front of.

I stood up in a rush, and Pogo twisted out from under Steve's hands to sit on one of my feet nervously, tail thumping. Steve stood up too, just as Walter arrived.

"Siri." Walter said again. He and I hardly talked, let alone in public. It was almost as strange to have him grinning at me with his dentures as it was having Steve fucking Rodgers petting my dog.

"Hi." I managed, turning to Walter, prepared to introduce Steve.

"Siri, I want you to meet, Steve Rodgers." Walter said.

I froze. I wasn't sure if I had heard him right. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

My dorky trillionaire grandfather-aged step-dad knew Steve Rodgers. And was grinning at him as if they were old buddies.

"Pleasure to meet you." Steve stuck out his hand. I stared at it.

Walter, sensing my hesitation but interpreting it the wrong way, clapped Steve on the back. "This here man is one of the greats. A real golden age hero. And an old friend." The old man waggled his eye brows at Steve, who blushed and put his empty hand away.

I thought of Walter's Captain America collection and wondered if this was actually happening.

My heart had traveled into my throat. I tried to swallow it down.

"And this here, my dear, is Tony Stark, from Stark Industries." Walter shifted and Tony stepped into view. I hadn't even seen him, what with being distracted with the sky falling. And pigs flying.

Not only was Steve here, crashing my regular life, but Iron Man was here, too.

"I knew Tony's father way back. Howard. I told you about Howard Stark, didn't I, hun?" He had told me a hundred times. "He and I actually have the same name. His second middle name is Walter. Isn't that ironic?" Walter's grin was huge. I had never seen him so happy. I didn't have the heart to tell him that irony had nothing to do with it.

"Also, as a side note, I am Iron Man." Tony said.

"And his friend. Bruce, is it?" Dr. Banner smiled and nodded at Walter. I didn't have any more room left in my brain to be surprised at seeing another superhero.

"Siri?" Tony did not offer his hand. "Like the magic voice the iPhone 4S?"

"What's that?" Walter asked, inclining his head towards Tony.

"It's nice to meet you," Dr. Banner took my hand and gave it a squeeze and a pump.

"Yeah," was all I could come up with. I licked my lips. My eyes darted between the three of them. My eyes stuck on Steve, though. He looked right back at me. I couldn't read his expression.

I thought I was going to pee my pants with confusion.

"My boys are here for Ruggerfest." Walter gestured to the field. I knew this had to be a lie. I didn't think Steve knew what Rugby was and there was no way Tony cared about organized sports. Bruce's eyes, though, followed the game knowingly.

The four of us turned to watch the game. I took the moment to breathe, check that my heart was still beating, that Pogo was still there, and to try to pull myself together.

Okay. So people I thought I would never see again were here. And they knew Walter. And they were apparently best friends. And they were here. Why were they here?

I noticed Gabe standing in the middle of the field, completely distracted by the group of men surrounding me.

"I thought we would take them to Brexi for an early supper." The awkwardness went completely over Walter's head. "It's Emelia's favorite," he explained to the three men.

Oh yeah. Sure. Lets invite the Avengers to dine with my totally freaked enchantress of a mother.

"Sounds lovely." Bruce said, distracted by the scrum.

"Oh she is!" Walter laughed at his own joke.

This couldn't happen.

My mother was going to take one look at Iron Man and explode. And then the Hulk would probably explode, too. And then raze all of Aspen.

But I couldn't think of what to say. Walter didn't know that I knew them. Walter didn't know his wife was an alien, either. Did she know Walter knew the people she hated and feared most?

As if this couldn't get any more bizarre and complicated, Gabe half limped half jogged right off the field, towards us. Angry shouts from the other Gents and the coach followed him. Another player ran out to replaced him, giving Gabe the bird.

"Gabe boy!" Walter called him over, waving his hand. I had never seen Walter like this. It was like he was ten years younger, excited about life for the first time in years.

This was too much to handle. All the facets of my life, including the secret, uncomfortable ones, were crashing and overlapping, making things blurry.

"Hey!" Gabe's face dripped with sweat. He flung an arm over my shoulder, knocking me forward with its weight. I got a great whiff of armpit before I shrugged out from underneath. "Who's your buddies, babe?" I scowled at the causal use of the pet name reserved for couples. Which we were not. I had to keep reminding him we were not together.

"Tony Stark, Stark Industries," Said Tony.

Gabe, the goof ball he is, didn't recognize the name. "Oh, cool, dude. I'm Gabrielle, angel of death. Of the great game. Rugby." He said dramatically. And then spat into a clump of treesWe stood silently, trying to figure out what he meant.

"Bruce Banner." Bruce shook his hand, breaking the tension, keeping the peace.

Ironically.

Since he is the hulk and apparently a very angry person.

Never mind.

Steve eyeballed Gebe, from his hairy, beefy calves to the short athletic shorts, and the sweat drenched jersey, and the ridiculous band he wore that pulled longish hair off his face.

"Steve."

"Gabe." Gabe's chest puffed like a bro, trying to match Steve's size as they shook hands.

"Well, we are off to super. Tell your old man hello for me." Walter said, taking a long gulp of beer and sticking his free hand in his pocket to jingle loose change uneasily.

"Will do, Walter." Gabe said, but didn't look away from Steve. "See you, babe." He turned around and ran back to the sidelines to explain just why he had abandoned the game during the most important tournament of the season.

"Cute kid." Tony said.

"Real cute." Steve added.

"Oh yeah. He's a good boy." Said Walter, finishing off his beer.

Steve and I walked up the steep hill, towards Aspen Mountain. Pogo trotted behind Steve's ankles, forcing him to be careful where he put his feet. We were dropping the dog off at home and picking up my mother for dinner. Walter, Bruce and Tony and gone on to the restaurant to pre-game the dinner at the bar. I couldn't stop looking at Steve as he matched my pace, despite the high altitude. I wasn't trying to walk fast; I wasn't in a hurry to show my mom what I found. Who I found. I was just having a hard time processing. Steve was comfortable with my silence the vigorous pace, taking in the sights of the circa 1900s brick buildings. He finally broke our silence.

"You leg looks much better," was what he said.

I snorted a laugh.

"How have you been?" he pressed on.

I bit the insides of my cheeks. There was no way I was doing this. I ducked quickly behind an apartment complex, into an empty garden courtyard. A central fountain trickled happily. Leaves floated in the small pond underneath. I turned to face him.

"Truth or dare?" I said.

He took a step back, taken completely aback by the question and my sudden change of direction.

"What?"

"Truth or dare, Steve. Pick one." My nerves were getting the best of me.

"Truth?" He said, uncertainly.

"Fine. The truth is you were the one who drove away. The truth is that I still can't dance on my leg. The truth is that I haven't slept more than three hours a night for two months."

I hadn't been planning on doing this. I was just going to keep myself together, pretend that I was fine here, that we were all just best friends for life. But months of stuffing everything inside for fear of my mother and fear of SHEILD finding out I was a rat, had turned me into land mine. Steve just stepped on me. Here was my explosion.

"So what's your truth, Steve? Hmm? What are you doing here? Why are you doing this? Don't you get how dangerous my mother is? If she sees any of the Avengers here, she is going to freak. And you don't even understand what that will look like, because I don't even know what exactly she is capable of. And I have lived with her for nineteen years.

"And on that note, dare. Here's your dare: go to dinner with her. See what happens. Think you can take her on. Think again." Something crossed my mind, then. What if they could take her? What would they do to her? "But don't you dare touch her. She is still my mother." I added, kind of dropping the ball on making a case for myself. I knew it didn't make sense. Love didn't make sense.

When I was done, Steve was still standing, hands clasped behind his back, stony faced, tracing my anger. He had survived the explosion. I guess he really was indestructible. I waited, annoyed, for his reply.

After a couple of moments of me smoking from the heat of my explosion he stepped closer, impeding on my personal space. I stood my ground. He had only to incline his head a couple of inches to look me right in the eye.

I froze, my heart pounding. Slowly, carefully, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me to him.

"I'm sorry." I felt the words rumble in his chest, vibrate through me and warm me. I did not return the embrace. He didn't let me go, though.

"It's going to be ok, Siri. We will figure this out. She isn't going to hurt anyone, I won't let her. Especially you."

I pushed him away. He didn't get it. "I don't want her to get hurt."

"She wont. Walter is our alibi. I knew him before the accident. He worked with Howard and the helped start The Brotherhood of the Shield and was apart of the V-Battlion."

"The what?"

"SHIELD before it was SHIELD."

"So you are here…to tell old war stories? Catch up?" I was cooling off. Maybe he was right.

"Yes. That and check that you are OK." He looked away from me. "I don't like they way we left it."

I didn't know what to say. I sighed. "Fine. But if anything goes wrong—"

"It won't." He cut me off.

I tried to trust him.

Walter did a good thing, picking Brexi. The restaurant was my mother's favorite. It was also in public, so she had to behave. Well, let's just say she wouldn't throw anything. It was clear that she did not recognize Steve without his Captain America suit, nor his name. She was actually excited to see a handsome man, a friend of Walter, escorting her daughter to the front door. And Steve knew how to turn on the charm.

He held doors, and called her mamm and complimented her earrings. He flexed his arms when he caught her staring and put his hand on the small of my back, guiding me out of danger of the street as we walked to Brexi. She flirted back shamelessly, giving me looks of excitement. She was probably planning our wedding.

If I wasn't so strung out on fear and irritation, I would have laughed.

Her possessiveness returned, however, when we got to the restaurant and she recognized Tony Stark sitting at the bar, next to Walter. Her good mood melted away with each step we took towards the men. I could see the emotions play across her face. The disbelief and shock. Her eyes narrowed, suspecting fowl play. Then the fear. That's what got me. I took her hand and pulled her forward.

"Emelia!" Walter stood immediately and kissed her full on the lips. "I want you to meet my old friend's son." Tony smiled a tight-lipped greeting. He didn't seem comfortable with what he probably thought was charity work."This is Howard's son, Tony. Tony, this is my wife, Emeila." Dr. Banner stuck his head around Tony. "Oh! And his friend, Bruce. Here for Ruggerfest. Dropped by to say a hello to an old friend."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, boys," said my mother, dripping with the essence of a woman I hardly knew. A seductress. It was embarrassing. Right here in front of Walter, she pulled her shoulders back, puckered her lips slightly and played with her hair.

I knew that she knew that Tony knew who she really was. Yet she directed her attentions mostly at Iron Man. It was like she was trying to tell him something. She flaunted her hidden identity, rubbing it in his face, daring him to react. A threat.

Oh Lord. I knew this was a bad idea.

Tony did not take the bait though. He drank two more glasses of scotch after we were seated at our preferred table. Walter was either stupid or very forgiving. He didn't even seem to notice how Emelia ignored him and prodded Tony relentlessly. I was squirming in my seat trying to figure how to walk this tight rope.

"So how do you guys know each other, exactly?" I decided to turn the attention to Walter, hoping this was the safest route.

"I was an intern for Stark Industries my sophomore year of college. Well it wasn't called Stark Industries then. It was just Howard in his basement, being a genius. I helped subsidize the Industries with a trust fund. You could say I bought my way in." He laughed towards Tony. The table was completely still, taken in. I had never known exactly his relationship with the Starks. Tony looked like he wanted another drink. This was the quietest I had ever seem him.

"Howard wouldn't give me the time of day, at first," Walter continued. "A young green buck studying mechanical engineering. I had a thing for Howard's robots, though, and I knew I had to get in on it. We called it the Arsenal, the robots." Walter trailed off, staring through the walls of the restaurant, reminiscing.

We all sat, stunned. All except Tony, who just looked uncomfortable at the unearthing of his father's past. And my mother, who clenched and unclenched her jaw.

The waitress knew our first names and our favorite dishes. We were a family of habit, coming here often and ordering the same plates.

"And Siri, here is moving to New York." Walter said as if continuing a conversation.

My mother dropped her fork. Steve Bruce and Tony quit eating to stare at me. Walter grinned proudly. I blushed.

"Which brings me to the next order of business," Walter chuckled, pulling his wallet out. He slipped a folded piece of paper out, unfolded it and handed it to me. It was a google map. It took me a second to figure out it was New York, specifically Manhattan. He had circled a block of the map in pencil and drawn lines to other spots on the map, starting at the circle and moving outward to spots he had underlined.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Your new address." Walter said.

"My…"

"I found an apartment in West Village. It's out of range of the disaster zone, in a really artsy part of town. And safety rating is through he roof. The guy I bought it off was selling it for two-thirds the original price. He just couldn't stand being in New York anymore. Not after the attack. But it's furnished and paid for."

I gaped at my step-father for a second. Then did what I had never done before: I hugged him. I was getting out.

Hi beautiful readers! I hope I haven't left you hanging for too long. I am quite excited for this sequel. I want to make it right for Siri. And of course Steve. Things have gotten a bit complicated, huh? Let me know what you think : )

Until next time,

Coy.