Chapter 1: New Encounters
The water lapped onto the pillars of the dock as the sun shone lazily, half hiding behind a cloud. Allowing the suns rays to meet her pasty-skin, Ingrid desperately attempted to obtain some sort of color. She knew it was of no use. Throughout her twenty-five years of living, she never managed to accomplish her goal, not even when she spent an entire summer in the sweltering heat of Mexico when she was sixteen. She had decided earlier that summer that she would cease with the purposeful tanning attempts, and instead go on a vacation that would allow her to relax, and if she happened to miraculously turn a shade darker, it would be a great surprise. She rearranged her light blonde hair so she could lay her head down in a more comfortable position. Her mind wandered, and she began to fall asleep.
She awoke to a fat drop of water landing on her forehead, and decided to go back into her uncle's cabin. As the rain grew harder, she looked at the flowers and the green grass surrounding the cabin, and realized that there was no other place she would rather be. It was here she always felt safe and happy; Sweden would always give her a sense of nostalgia and belonging.
The cabin was always inviting, with it's maroon colored panels, and black-lined windows. A smile broke out on her face and she remembered spending many childhood summers laying in the grass and rolling down the hill. She opened the door, walked into the tiny kitchen, and turned on the kettle so as to make her afternoon tea. The old floorboards creaked under toe as she made her way to the small living room to read and wait for the water to boil. Ingrid took a deep breath and smelled the wood and clean air, and at that moment, vowed to herself that she would never be happier anywhere else. Before she sat down she put on her favorite record out of her uncle's collection. The jazz music and the wail of Bessie Smith filled the small cabin, and sat down to continue writing her mystery novel.
Before she could begin, a knock came at the door. Knowing no one in the area, she wondered whom on earth it could be that knocked on her door. Perplexed, she walked over to see who it was. Looking out the window at the side of the door she saw her uncle Eric standing there, waving merrily. "Hello, Ingrid! Open the door!" He smiled. Behind him was a small group of people who seemed familiar, but she could not identify. However, she was happy to see the smiley face of her uncle, and gladly opened the door.
"So sorry for interrupting your vacation so abruptly, but it is important that my friends and I meet somewhere private, and this was the only place I could think of."
"Don't worry about it. You can come here anytime. I was just getting ready to have my tea."
"Oh, good! We'll just meet in the living room. You can join us if you like."
Ingrid nodded her head. She went into the kitchen to make a pot of tea. As she made it, her uncle came in.
"Ingrid, before you go out there, you have to know something about my friends." Said her uncle in Swedish.
"What?" She replied.
"They are the Avengers."
Ingrid stared at her uncle in surprise. "The…Avengers? The ones who almost destroyed New York?"
"Yes. Them. Would you…like to meet them?"
"Sure." Ingrid said.
They abandoned the tea for the moment and walked into the living room. The Avengers were sitting quietly, glancing at one another. Eric began to speak:
"Hello everyone, this is my niece, Ingrid. She has been staying in the cabin for about a month now."
"Hello Ingrid." The group answered in unison. Ingrid merely smiled at them in acknowledgement.
"Ingrid, these are the Avengers. Bruce Banner, who you would know as the Hulk, is to your left, then there is Tony Stark, or Iron Man, Natasha Romanov, the Black Widow, Clint Barton, Hawkeye, Thor, and Steve Rogers, or Captain America as he is known."
Ingrid's eyes had followed her uncle's finger as he pointed at each hero. She marveled at the normal appearance of each hero. Her eyes lingered a little longer than comfortable at the hunk of attractiveness that took the shape of Steve Rogers. She shook her head of the shallow thought, and looked carefully at each hero. She saw the shifty uneasy eyes of Bruce Banner, the calm tough demeanor of Natasha Romanov, a similar trait in Clint Barton, she saw the wrinkles around Tony Stark's eyes and his shielded yet cocky air, Thor's large body and friendly smile sent a warm comfortable feeling through her body, and finally she allowed herself to take a look at Steve Rogers. She saw that his strong body was held in a defense stance, he was confident but soft. His smile was friendly enough, but he seemed anxious as if he were waiting for something big. He looked straight at her, and she nodded her head in acknowledgement. His smile broadened and nodded in return. She turned her head to her uncle.
"Would you like some tea? I have some biscuits in the fridge to go with it."
Her uncle smiled, "Yes. I believe we could all use some tea."
Ingrid hummed to herself as she walked to the kitchen. She sang her familiar song to herself, preparing the tea for her uncle and friends. She placed the kettle on the stove and made sure the flame was on. Then she quickly emptied a packet of biscuits onto a plate. As the water heated, she began hum "La Vie en Rose" and daydreamed. In her day dream she was living in her uncle's cabin, alone and content. She imagined herself swimming in the cold water, taking long walks in the forest, having her afternoon coffee sitting on the grass, and she imagined herself completely and utterly happy. There was no need for work, no need for stress. Her dissertation would not need to be written, her incomplete novel would not need a due date, and her job would be nonexistent.
She interrupted by a throat clearing. Her head popped up and she turned to face the cougher. Steve Rogers was standing at the door way of the kitchen trying to hide a smirk.
"Sorry to bother you ma'am, but I was wondering if you would like some help."
"Oh, uh…sure. I guess…If you want to…" She mumbled, unsure of how to answer. She had never received help from someone to make tea. "Don't you and your team have more important things to do?"
"Not as important as helping someone who was generous enough to open her door and offer a beverage."
"Oh. It's my uncle's cabin. I'm just using for the summer, I don't actually live here."
"Where do you normally live then?"
"Houston. Texas."
"Really? I've never been there before. Is it nice?"
"It's okay. Some areas are really pretty, and some are really ugly. It all depends on where you go."
"Oh. That's…um…cool. Do I need to do anything?" He looked at her and grinned his striking grin.
"Sure. Here." She handed him the tray of biscuits that she had dumped haphazardly in a pile. She wasn't one to waste time arranging things in a nice circle. When he left the kitchen, she brewed the tea. She watched as the water in each cup turned a dark brown as the tea diffused into it and carefully placed each cup onto another tray so as not to drop it. Walking a bit slower than her normal pace, she went to serve the tea to her uncle's friends.
"Ah! Good! I was worried we lost you!" Joked her uncle. Ingrid laughed dryly at this, trying to hide her embarrassment. She was a constant daydreamer and could be lost for hours in her own thoughts.
"Mr. Rogers helped me back down to Earth." She said, avoiding the large Dorito-bodied man's gaze. "Otherwise you may have never gotten your tea."
Eric turned to the others and proclaimed, "Ingrid is a daydreamer. All her life we would all struggle to get her attention. Once she took three hours to walk home from school because she was busy thinking about wildflowers." He poker her playfully.
"It was not wildflowers. I was looking at the wildflowers imagining myself as a rose, and being able to bloom at will." Her face was a deep crimson. She looked around the small living room. There were two chairs on the left, occupied by Tony and her uncle. Steve, Thor, Natasha, and Clint occupied the couch that was perpendicular to the chairs. Bruce occupied one of the chairs on the opposite side of the room, leaving the chair that was closest to the tiny bedroom. She was relieved to see a spot so far from Steve, who made her blush just by looking at her.
"Oh, yes I remember. Benny found you standing at your grandmother's garden humming your little song. Your daydreaming is what makes you such a good writer." He turned to the group, "Ingrid writes novels." He informed them.
Ingrid smiled sheepishly at the complement. Her uncle always treated her like a daughter and was always praising her. He was her only living relative and she enjoyed the close bond that they shared. She glanced over at Steve whose grin had grown wider since the last time she had looked over.
"What kind of novels do you write?" He asked genuinely.
"Normally I write science fiction, but I am trying to write a murder mystery at the moment."
"How far along are you?"
"I have the first sentence written, but otherwise, nothing."
"Well. I'm sure you will finish it. You seem smart enough."
Ingrid nodded, embarrassed at the compliment. She could barely look at him without blushing. She looked down at her hands, feigning disinterest at the topic. Her uncle must have sensed her discomfort, because he gave her a way out of the situation.
"Ingrid, if you don't mind, we are going to discuss something private. I would appreciate if you weren't here for it."
Ingrid nodded and got up, relieved to have a reason to leave the room. She decided to take her daily walk. She said her goodbyes and walked to the hallway near the front door, grabbed her jacket, put on her walking shoes, grabbed an umbrella, and went out the door. Walking up the small hill to the trail, she began to daydream. This time, she was thinking about her novel. By the time she got to her favorite spot of the trail, she had decided which of her characters was to be the murderer. She stopped so as to admire the spot that she loved so dearly. She could see the lake at the end of the large field of trees. What she loved most were the different colors. Although the trees were green, not one was the same. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The fresh, clean air filled her lungs, and the cool breeze blew through her hair. After a few minutes, she opened them and turned around to go back to the cabin. She smacked into Steve's chest and let out a yelp. He jumped back and had a concerned look on his face.
"I am so sorry. Your uncle was worried about you, and wondered where you were. I volunteered to come…um…look for you."
Ingrid just stared, surprised at the gesture, and began walking back towards her uncle's cabin. She had no idea how to respond to Steve. He rushed to catch up with her, and met her stride.
"Hey. I am really sorry. I didn't mean to sneak up on you. But I did call your name a couple times."
Ingrid looked at him, "It's okay. I…um…zone out a lot, and it can be kind of hard to drag me out of it." She turned and looked forward, trying to regain her thoughts.
"Why are you so nervous?" He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
"I'm not. I just don't talk much. I spend most of my time alone, writing. That is how I like it."
"Don't you ever feel lonely?"
"No. I tend to like my own company. Big groups make me nervous."
It was Steve's turn to be silent. Ingrid felt guilty. She wished she were more friendly and warm towards others, instead of always seeming uncaring and cold. Sometimes she imagined herself hosting parties and being able to be a warm and inviting host. Steve remained quiet, and Ingrid decided to force herself to say something to him that would be friendly and open up to a conversation.
"Your Captain American costume is really tight." She mentally scolded herself for such a dumb comment. Steve looked at her and smiled.
"Well, I need to be able to have great mobility and to move really fast. So the outfit needs to be tight."
She blushed. "I…know. I just didn't know what else to talk about." She confessed.
"Here. I'll start the conversation for you. What do you like to do besides write?"
"I like to read and listen to music, but not much else. You?"
"Well, when I'm not keeping up with my training, I like to catch up on all the years I have missed. Any friends?"
"A couple, but I like to be alone a lot. I'm not much of a people person."
"I disagree. I think you are a great people person, you just haven't had the opportunity to practice the skill. What about a job? Do you just write, or do you do something else?"
"I mostly write, but sometimes I write articles for whatever newspaper nearby. What about you? What do you do when you are not saving the world?"
"Nothing. Sometimes I help with SHEILD intelligence gathering, but otherwise I spend most of my time doing whatever SHEILD needs me to do."
"Oh. Cool. So…um…how much have you caught up on?"
"Well, I'm at about 1979 history wise, but pop culture wise, I kind of jump around. Natasha keeps recommending films to me, and she's got good taste."
"What movies have you seen?"
"Well, I just finished this thing one movie called Citizen Kane. Have you heard of it?"
"I've seen it, but it's not really my style. I prefer movies with aliens and gun fighting. I wish I were more into the classics, but I can't get myself to watch them."
"I enjoyed it. I thought it was intriguing. What movies would you recommend?" He reached into his pocket to grab his catch-up notebook.
"Oh. Um. Well, I am not sure if you would like my style of film."
"Can't say for sure until I try. I have some free time, I would love to see something different."
"Okay. But you asked. Forbidden Planet is one of my favorites. Star Wars is cool, and is a good one for first timers, although it could be considered a fantasy rather than just pure science fiction."
"I've seen Star Wars! It was one of Tony's recommendations."
"What did you think?"
"I enjoyed it…but it wasn't my style." He stated awkwardly.
"That's okay. We can't all like the same things." She said.
"What about one of your books? Can I read one?"
"Oh. Sure. If you really want to. I have some copies in the cabin. I can loan you one."
Steve nodded excitedly, "I would love to read one."
Ingrid smiled and blushed. She was pleased at the attention Steve seemed to be giving her, and was excited at the notion of him reading her book. Her brain instantly began imagining wild scenarios of her and him cooking together in the small kitchen, swimming together in the lake, having afternoon coffee together, and reading on the docks as the sun sets. She shook her head violently, trying to get rid of the thoughts, reminding herself of her enjoyment of solitude. Her eyes glanced over at Steve, who also seemed deep in thought. She wondered what he was thinking about. Was he thinking about Peggy? His duties? His life? She wished she could read his mind and be able to share some of her thoughts as well. Instead, she let him enjoy his solitude as they walked down the small hill to the cabin. Her uncle was outside the door with his coffee cup in hand. He saw them walking down towards the door and grinned wildly.
"Hello there you two!" He yelled.
"Hello, Uncle." Said Ingrid.
"Where have you been? Were you lost in the head of yours?" He said, teasingly.
"Kind of. I was at the hill."
"Ah. The hill. Even I've been lost there. Did you see anything new?"
"No. That's why I like it. It's always the same. Never changes."
Eric just smiled at his niece. It was the smile he always gave her when she had zoned out for so long. A smile that was both glad to see her, but had a hint of sadness, as if he was worried that one day she would never stop zoning out. Ingrid climbed up the small set of stairs and walking to the cabin. The floorboards creaked as she walked into the living room. Tony and Bruce were the only other people in the room. Outside she could see Natasha and Clint having a disagreement while Thor was trying to catch water bugs at the lake. She turned to go into the bedroom for some more quiet time when Tony interrupted her.
"So, you're Eric's niece?"
"Yes. Well spotted detective."
"Ooo, sarcasm. Nice. So question. Has he always been that…eccentric?"
"Yes. He has. He is very passionate about what he does and he does it well.
"So I gathered. I like your cabin. It's very…quaint. Especially this wallpaper. How old is this place?"
"It was built in the 1930's, so it's not that old."
"Okay, enough beating around the bush. Why are you here? I mean, you seem pretty capable and you don't resemble an ax murderer, so why are you in a secluded cabin in the middle of the woods?"
"It's not secluded. There is a neighbor at the top of hill. And how is me being in this cabin any different from you living in a big mansion in the middle of a big piece of land?"
"Touché. But, you see, I make the Ironman suits, so I need a certain amount of seclusion so ensure that no one steals my technology. I don't see why you need to be so secluded to write a book."
"How do you know I'm not building something top secret and using the book writing as an excuse?"
"You don't seem like the type. What book are you writing?"
"A book about a murder. How do you know I'm not the type?"
Tony and Ingrid both had their arms crossed and were about an inch apart. Tony smiled and began laughing. Ingrid attempted to hide her smile. He patted her shoulder and said, "That's enough of that. Well, it was really nice of you to let us use the cabin."
"It's my uncle's cabin."
"Whatever." Tony walked to the front porch. Bruce followed waving to Ingrid. Ingrid collapsed on the couch, exhausted from the socialization. After a few minutes her uncle came up to her.
"Long day?"
"The last part of it."
"The team seemed to like you."
"I guess."
"Especially Steve. He really liked you."
"Stop! No! I like my solitude."
"Solitude, solitude, solitude. That's all I ever hear. 'Oh, Uncle Eric, can I please use the cabin. I want to be alone for a little bit.'"
"I just don't like people."
"Huh." Eric said waving his hand. "I am going back to town now. Is there anything you need?"
"I'm running low on milk."
"Again? If you didn't drink ten cups of tea a day, you might not run out of milk so quickly. Or try to drink it without milk."
"I don't like it without milk."
"Ah. What am I going to do with you?"
Ingrid got up and gave her uncle a hug. "You are my favorite uncle."
"I am your only uncle." Eric stated with a hint of sadness.
"Either way. You are my favorite."
Eric smiled. They said their goodbyes and Ingrid was left alone, again. She went into the bedroom and grabbed her computer bag. She got out her laptop and began writing her novel.