Chapter One

He keeps staring at me… why? Do I have a booger hanging out? Am I really that ugly? Nip-slip? What is it, Doctor Banner? It hasn't occurred to me until now that I'm staring right back.

"Watson? Are you paying attention?" I snap back into focus. Where am I? Meeting. HQ. Right. Good job.

"Yes sir. When do we head out?" Fury is quite snippy, even without his title.

"Midnight. Go home, pack, and head out at twelve. The dark should cover you. We're being watched. Stealth mode the whole time, Stark. We're just after information, but you could run into some hostiles. Don't let your guard down. Be ready for anything." He seems more worried than he should be for a simple intelligence mission. I wasn't paying attention for most of the briefing, but even with my daydreaming, it seemed a little… brief. He has more than he's telling us about. What else is new?

-1.5 hours and one jet ride later-

It's about seven when we finally get back to the new tower. (Tony felt the need to move it after the Ultron incident.) This is too much time to pack. What do I even have to pack? Emergency supplies, sure. Those are pre-packed in a bag by my door all the time. Living at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters prepared me for quick escapes with anything I might need. Oh yeah, I didn't mention; I'm a mutant. Fury and Xavier made a joint decision that my knowledge wouldn't be furthered by spending the rest of my life in the mansion, and the world was being deprived of my abilities due to their lack of use, so they sent me to be an Avenger. Twenty-two and getting so far in the world… lucky me. Tony is no longer the only one on the team who can fly. My mutation is a pair of giant wings attached to my back… lucky me again. I love them, but to say they haven't caused me trouble would be a lie. Tragic backstory, blah blah blah. Anyway, they're as tall as I am and, when fully extended, twice my height in their span. I like to think of them as giant, white, ultra-sensitive motorcycles.

"Alex!" Who could possibly want what…

"Yes dear," I reply to the voice as I stick my head out of my room.

"Come here." The voice is Tony's.

"What if I have something better to do?"

"Then I'll use Iron Legion 2.0 to launch this tablet through your window. Duh." I smirk and walk toward him.

"What can I do ya for hot stuff?" I smirk. He looks up and smirks back.

"We're going after William Stryker. It seems like he has a history with people more on your side of the family tree. Sound familiar?" Oh God… if it's Stryker we're after, I understand why Fury was so worried. That man is ruthless, evil, and will stop at nothing to… well, be horrible.

"Unfortunately yes. He's the Original Sandbox Destroyer from my neck of the woods. Meanie-head. Do you know what he's planning?"

"Nope-sorry doll face. Wish I did. New question, though."

"Shoot bro."

"Do you like Bruce?" If I had a drink, I might choke one it.

"No comment." I walk back into my room to pack what I didn't realize I had forgotten until the mention of Stryker's name: weapons.

-three hours and a gun-cleaning later-

It's 11:30, and everyone is ready to leave. Tony and Bruce are engaged in some sort of scientific banter. Clint is standing with his arms crossed-pretty intense for somebody who pulls so many vent-based pranks. Steve is attempting to navigate the magnificent iPhone, and Natasha is standing over his shoulder-or, as close as she can get at her height-giggling almost silently at his abortive attempts. I don't know what to do. I glance around and catch Bruce looking at me again. How could he not? Even I have to admit I look kind of good. My leather vest has holes in the back big enough for my wings (Even though I can retract them as I please, it gets a little cumbersome during vigorous physical activity-better to just have wing holes.) and the pants match the vest, but are ultra-stretchy. I could do Natasha's death-thigh thing! ...if I knew how. Oh well. The point is he's looking at me, and I don't want to stop looking back. I wave. He blushes and turns away. Only one way to fix that. I begin to stride into their conversation.

"Hi boys." The greeting seemed appropriate in my head, but surprisingly too casual outside.

"Hey Alex," Bruce replies. Tony just looks at me with an eyebrow cocked.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"Stryker's experiments. He's barbaric. All of those innocent people he killed… in the name of what?" Bruce answers, somewhat irritated with the whole idea.

"They didn't all die. It's kind of like what AIM was doing, except AIM might have killed fewer people. He didn't kill Logan because he was given an extraordinary motivation to live," I reply.

"It still damaged the man. He's tough as nails, but good God. Nobody deserves to go through that."

You didn't either. Our conversation is interrupted by the start of a jet.

"Time to move out, guys," Clint calls from the pilot's seat. My fidgeting accelerates to lightning speed. I want to do this. Stryker is just the single most evil person I know.

"Everything all right, Alex?" Bruce asks. He scoots closer so that we're inches from each other. His eyes are so warm… I take a deep breath.

"William Stryker is not someone who will take anything we do lightly. He won't hesitate to send the army of mutants he more than likely already has at his disposal after us. He did irreparable damage to one of my best friends," I tell Bruce. He listened intently. He is genuinely concerned about both what I have said and the fact that this bothers me do much.

"I'm not saying Logan asked for what he got. I'm also not saying that what happened to him or any of Stryker's other human-experiments was good. But your friend wouldn't be who he is today if every preceding detail of his life had not gone exactly as it had. None of us would be. Natasha and the Red Room; Tony and his imprisonment in the Middle East; the Captain and his serum-slash-being frozen. None of us would be here if bad things hadn't happened to us." I've never thought of it that way before, but the man is right. The things that happen to us and our reactions shape who we are.

"You're right. I hadn't thought of it that way before, but you are right. I'm sorry it doesn't help the nerves though. I wish I could tell you it did," I apologize. He meant to soothe me. It was in his eyes.

"It's okay. I'm just sorry I couldn't help more." There is a short pause until he has gathered his thoughts.

"Hey Alex?"

"Hey Doctor Banner?"

"When we get back to the tower, would you-" He is cut off by Steve's voice.

"Okay guys, here's the plan. This guy-Stryker-his base is in the middle of the forest, which gives us plenty of cover. We have no idea what we're headed into, so the element of surprise is vital. Alex will be the first to exit the plane. She is our primary set of eyes."

"Well don't I feel special?" Clint smirks, and Tony actually snorts.

"I hope so," Steve shoots back with a small smile. "From circling for a few minutes, we can tell that the compound is somewhat lit. Alex, you take out the sentry. He's based out of a tower in the middle. Clint will take his place. His job is to take out anyone on the ground. The key here is stealth-infiltrate the base as quietly as possible-no rambunctious crap."

"I'm offended!" Tony says and raises a hand.

"Well, dear, you could stand to be a little more graceful." I punctuate the sentence with a flutter of my wings. Tony looks even more wounded, Bruce chuckles, and Steve continues without missing a beat.

"We can't assume that the obvious sniper is acting alone. Alex: check the corners and trees. We can't afford heavy fire from above. Tony, Natasha, and I will go in and download all of their intel. Everybody is a little leery of Fury at this point too, so Bruce is staying on the plane to backup all of what we gather on a separate hard drive for whatever research we see fit. The key here is stealth and speed, guys. In and out in under half an hour, and then back to the tower. Any questions?"

"Does the bad language rule still apply if you trip over a branch?"