Author's Note: Yeah, I don't really have an excuse for this... I am at my grandparents' house, studying for my exam next month (and getting awfully sidetracked by this wonderful website, might I add).

...

Oh, wait! I own nothing from Marvel!


Her stomach growled. She winced. She was sitting in a helicopter with the notorious Trickster while his sort-of-brother was on a short trip to Norway. Business, they had told her. She could wonder and be confused all she liked on the inside but on the outside she had to remain calm and collected. Professional.

Unfortunately her stomach didn't quite agree with her brain. Saving the world has precedence over lunch, she internally berated it. Wait, didn't she still have her bag with her? The one she had so hurriedly grabbed before Head Quarters collapsed and she along with her co-workers had escaped? Oh yes. Grandma's brownies were saved!

She was eagerly digging around in the small bag, fumbling with the lid when she had the distinct feeling of having a pair of eyes drilling themselves into her forehead. It is impolite to eat any kind of candy, sweets or cake without offering those around you, her mother's voice sounded in her head.

Digging out two cookies from the depths of the bag she held them out to him. "Want one?" she offered with a meek smile. Her own internally voice supplied with Don't hold your hand as if you are feeding a horse. He is not a horse.

He stared incredulously back at her.

She retracted her hand. "Yeah... right. Sorry... about the... muzzle... thing. I am just gonna shut up now."

She hastily dropped the cookies back in the box and shut the lid. Impolite! Her stomach growled again and she groaned along. This would be a long trip.