A/N: Alright guys, I'm proud to present my sequel to Silver Eyes. This was a long time coming. Thank you so much to amillionthanks for spurring me onward to continue, you're my inspiration. As a personal note to her, I would like to remind her to read this while sitting on the ground, as she has a tendency of falling out of chairs. Also, this is a sequel. It's impossible to join the story right here and understand everything, so here is a link to the first part of the Silver Eyes trilogy: www . /s/ 8375533/1/ Silver-Eyes . For those of you that don't know, fanfiction hates links for some reason, so get rid of the spaces between that and you should be taken straight there. Thank you so much to everyone for who follows or favorites, as well as you lurkers. Feel free to review, or PM if you need a quick refresher. Enjoy! Disclaimer: I own The Avengers DVD, but I'm told that's not the same thing as owning the Avengers.
Sam sat in the living room of the Avengers tower, twirling her necklace pendant between her fingers. It had become a sort of habit for her as she idly stared at the TV. It was on some cooking channel, but she couldn't even tell you what they were making, to be honest. Her toe tapped against the floor. The group would be back soon, and she wanted to know how the mission went.
It had been nearly two weeks since…the incident, as Sam referred to it in her head. Some amount of normalcy had returned. Amber had moved back out of the tower once it was deemed safe, with the exception of leaving Pita the cat behind. Tony relented his "no permanent pets" rule in light of the situation. The team had returned to taking missions, with the exception of Sam.
It seemed that when she had been shot with a small amount of antiserum, her system was considerably messed up. Bruce said she would make a full recovery and go back to her completely abnormal self, but for now she was a little stuck, so to speak. She was healing slower than usual and her leg occasionally ached. Her ring finger was slightly crooked where it had been broken. Sam did her best to keep her hand out of sight, choosing not to see it. On top of all of this, Sam could no longer teleport more than a couple hundred feet, which was very problematic for her.
All in all, Sam could still function as a member of the team. She could throw knives better than anyone else, and when she fought with Natasha she wasn't pinned down in the first twenty seconds anymore, but the team still had concerns. More specifically, Steve still had concerns. She got his whole "protective boyfriend" bit, but it was really starting to annoy her. She couldn't stand just sitting around the tower all day.
Her thoughts continued on for quite a while until she heard a thump come from the elevator. Turning, she saw Clint and Steve exit the elevator, shield in hand.
"So, how did it go," Sam asked as nonchalant as she could manage.
"Oh, you know, same old, same old," Clint responded while heading to the kitchen to grab a drink. Steve came up behind the couch and kissed her forehead before taking the seat next to her.
"Hey there, cripple," Tony called from….wherever the hell Tony came from. Sam hadn't noticed him before. She jumped at the surprise, then glared.
"Stark," Steve warned with a glare of his own.
"Oh come on, I come in peace," Tony said as he dropped something on Sam's lap. She held up a box of crayons.
"Why do I get crayons," Sam asked, cautious of whatever the joke was.
"To go with these," Tony said as he held up some coloring books. "I figured since you're bored and all, I could find you something to do. Nothing too difficult, you understand."
"Stark," Steve started again in warning before Sam cut across him.
"Aw how cute. You know, if you need someone to teach you how to color inside the lines, don't be embarrassed. You don't have to give me your coloring books to do it for you. I taught my two year old cousin, I'm sure there's not that much of a learning curve for you."
"No, thanks, I'm not a fan of staying inside the lines," Tony said as he took a seat near the couch.
"Yeah, I know. I've seen you park before," Sam replied easily. She looked over at Steve, expecting to find him still mad at Tony. Surprisingly, he had a smile on his face as he watched. She guessed he was just happy to see her back to bickering.
"Excuse you, have you seen my parking? It's fantastic. Besides, your parking job needs serious help. Those lines aren't suggestions," Tony scoffed.
"Say what? My parking job is straighter than you ever will be," Sam said while sticking her tongue out.
"Are you implying Pepper is secretly a man, because I think she'll take offense at that," Tony replied.
"Are you seriously implying I'm terrible at parking," Sam asked, pretending to be hurt.
"No, I'm implying you're a woman," Tony replied. Natasha's hand came out of nowhere to hit him upside the head.
"Watch it," she called over her shoulder as she joined Clint in the kitchen.
"I didn't even see her," Tony said as he rubbed the back of his head. "It's like living with freaking ninjas. They just pop out at you when you least expect it." Sam just shook her head and made a "tsk" noise while Steve decided it was time to learn how to make the perfect omelet from the person on the TV.
The rest of the afternoon passed in pointless bickering between Sam and Tony while Steve "chaperoned" which mostly consisted of yelling at Tony when he went too far, which caused him to point out his favoritism.
"Stay out of this Capsicle. The only reason you butt in to save her is because you two make out," Tony complained.
"That's not remotely true," Sam said. "If you made out with Steve I doubt he would side with you."
The awkward pause after her words was once again swallowed up as Natasha and Clint took seats in the room and the team held a normal conversation. Pepper entered the room and shooed Tony off to get ready for some big dinner he had to attend.
"We should get ready too," Steve told Sam as he got up from the couch and stretched.
"Where are we going," Sam asked curiously.
"It's a surprise," he replied with a smile. Sam grinned back and ran off to change into some nicer clothes. She wasn't quite sure what the dress code was, so she settled for a nice shirt and dressy jeans, hoping it wasn't too casual. When she met up with Steve, she knew she wasn't too far off the mark.
"Ready to go," Steve asked as he knocked on her door.
"As I'll ever be. Are you going to tell me where we're going now," Sam replied.
Steve just shook his head and smiled. Sam reached out and took his hand. Their journey took them out into the streets of New York City, but instead of signaling for a taxi they walked on. Wherever they were going, it was in walking distance.
For her part, Sam kept making guesses of where they were going, and each time Steve would laugh or shake his head as they swung their entwined hands. She was enjoying this game. It made her feel safer, happier.
Steve stopped short on the sidewalk and pulled her into a small restaurant. Italian music filled the room and the smell was incredible. The dining space was intimate. Small booths and tables were scattered around, lit by candle light. A waiter appeared with two menus and led them to a table near the back.
"I hope you like Italian," Steve said as they were looking through the menus.
"I love it," Sam replied. "When I was little I used to visit my grandma and she would make a big lasagna." She smiled at the memories that reminded her of home.
The conversation continued throughout dinner, but it was strained. Sam could tell he was avoiding anything serious, specifically about Sam.
"So," she started as she finished her fettuccini, "how much longer am I exiled for?"
"Sam, you're not exi-," Steve said in a concerned tone.
"I know," She cut in. "But I'm fully recovered now. Health-wise, anyway. Even if not everything thing is back to normal, I'm able to fight. I can throw a knife."
"Yes, but not everything is ba-," he tried again.
"Clint and Natasha are 'normal', no strings attached, and they can fight."
Steve sighed and looked away for a long minute. "Fine," he relented. "If you get cleared for your injuries, we'll talk about rejoining missions, but only as a secondary position."
"Great. Back up duty. I don't mind bleacher seats," Sam said with a smile. It was a start. However, she didn't miss the fact that he didn't actually agree. That didn't matter; Sam would get her way.
With that taken care of, dinner went by smoothly. Afterward, they walked around a few blocks and went looking through different stores. Sam's mood was significantly better. While she tried not to show it, she was going crazy being stuck in the tower doing homework.
Sam found a small thrift shop and tugged Steve inside. It was like stepping back in time. Different antiques were scattered about the store, giving it an ordered chaotic feel. There was stuff from every era, including a pocket watch from the 40s. Sam eyed it while Steve was busy examining some old photo frames. It was perfect for a present for Steve, and she decided to get it the next day and hang on to it. Finding gifts that he would like was a rare occurrence.
Meanwhile, a lone figure stood across the street in the shadows, watching Sam's every move.
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX
By the time they returned to the tower, it was late. Most of the others had gone off to bed, and Sam decided to forego sitting around with Clint, Pepper, and Tony in favor of getting some sleep. She was dead tired, and her feet carried her to her doorway out of habit rather than paying attention.
In his own room, Steve was just getting ready for bed. He was in the middle of changing when he heard a scream from Sam's room. Half dressed, he ran into the hall with shield in hand and made it to Sam's door in seconds. The sight that met him was not pleasant. Twenty gremlin-looking electronic dolls were creating a cacophony of noise, blinking and looking utterly terrifying. He wasn't quite sure what to do.
Sam moved to stand behind him. "Oh god, why me," she moaned.
"What are those," Steve asked as he eyed the little demons.
"Furbies," she responded as she stared at the things, afraid to take her eyes off of them. "They're a child's toy."
"Those….are toys," Steve asked slowly. What child in their right mind would want one of those?
"Stark," Sam said angrily as she kicked the nearest Furby. She hated Furbies. With a passion. Walking in on twenty of them in the middle of the night was the last thing she expected. The pranks were supposed to be over with after Bruce got caught in the crossfire, but apparently that didn't matter anymore.
Natasha came down the hall, gun out. "What the hell is going on here?"
"Stark's idea of a prank," Sam replied tersely. Natasha took in the twenty or so Furbies still making noise and Sam's face, and quickly left for her own room, which she then locked.
"What are you going to do," Steve asked apprehensively as Sam smiled. It pained him to ask. He could only imagine what would come next, but he supposed Tony deserved it. He was not about to interfere.
"JARVIS, doesn't the tower have a few of those automatic vacuum cleaner robotic things," Sam asked.
"Yes, miss. There are three at disposal," JARVIS said from the ceiling.
"Perfect," Sam grinned. "And where might those be located?"
Fifteen minutes later Sam surveyed her and Steve's handiwork. A Furby had been attached to each vacuum and secured with duct tape. Various knives of Sam's had been taped to the Furbies, making them look spectacularly frightening.
"That should do it," Sam said, proud of their work. With that, they carried their masterpieces up to the top floor to the open living room area. They could hear the news on the TV while Tony talked aimlessly with Pepper, Clint, and the addition of Thor.
Sam got the feeling of being watched, and she turned around to see Loki standing behind them, drink in hand. He simply gave them a look, not deigning to speak to them.
"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," Sam warned while Steve gave him his own warning look. Wordlessly, Loki turned heel and headed off, presumably to his own quarters.
The vacuums were set on the floor and turned on, pointing straight into the living room. Sam and Steve made a quick exit, having already told JARVIS to record this moment for posterity. Before they left they could hear Clint say "what the-" promptly followed by Pepper's scream as the noise activated the Furbies maniacal laughter. As the elevator lowered, they heard Thor yell "KILL THEM WITH FIRE," and Tony calling to JARVIS to get rid of them. It was in vain of course, as he was previously programmed to not step in.
The next half hour was spent safely hiding in Bruce's lab, which was previously unoccupied, as Sam and Steve watched the security feed and their attempts to rid themselves of the Furby menace in the top floor. In the end, Tony ended up calling for his suit due to one of the Furbies making a narrow miss with its knife. (Sam decided it probably wasn't the best idea to point the knife sticking out.)
One of the highlights of the night, Thor actually tried setting a Furby on fire, which resulted in the most terrifying sight any of them had previously seen. The hair on the little demon was remarkably flammable; however it did not slow it down as it continued its path of destruction towards Tony. As it melted, one of its eyes came loose and rolled across the carpet as the laughing slowly turned from the already creepy high pitch to a deeper tone that warped it to downright sinister. Sam fell out of her chair laughing as Tony actually flipped out over it.
"You know, that was probably incredibly dangerous," Steve commented.
"Well, put it this way: If he can't get rid of a Furby duct taped to a vacuum, is he qualified to be an Avenger," Sam asked with a raised eyebrow.
Admittedly, she did feel bad about the casualties on this one. Pepper left the room as quickly as possible and Clint decided it was better to perch on top of the electronics cabinet to get a better view, but Thor felt the need to "slay the hideous beasts" and did his best. Sam doubted the vacuums would be worth salvaging after this, and she hoped her knives would be okay. Still, the look on Tony's face was worth it.
They continued to watch Tony wander around the tower looking for Sam. JARVIS declined helping him once again, having promised on the life of his circuits he would not give their location away. He went from one room to another yelling at Sam, which only added to the humor. Stark wasn't truly mad, but it was obvious the war had started.
When he gave up and called it a night they left Bruce's lab, making sure they had a hard copy of the footage in case Tony decided to wipe it clean. Sam really felt that a battle of this magnitude needed to be saved for future generations to understand the heroism that took place. Their floor was eerily quiet now, but Steve walked Sam to her door, intending to clean up the rest of the Furby mess.
Once inside Sam's room, they came to a devastating discovery. The rest of the Furbies were missing. There were at least seventeen left, and JARVIS could not tell them what had happened to them. Apparently he was playing both sides of the field. Ever the protective boyfriend, Steve double checked every place in Sam's room for hidden Furbies.
"I knew I kept you around for a reason," Sam joked as he checked underneath her bed.
"You know I'll keep you safe from anything," Steve replied.
There was a momentary silence in the room as Sam remembered the serious implications of his words. There was an undercurrent there of something, and Sam wished she could say it was just related to the events of a few weeks ago, but it felt odd, like he was hinting at something more recent. She shook her head. The danger was over now. No need to worry.
"That should do it," Steve said as he pulled back her shower curtain. None of the little furred menace had been found in her room.
"Thanks," Sam smiled. She was still distracted by Steve's words earlier. Steve saw this, and pulled her in for a kiss.
"I mean it. You're the best," Sam said. She watched Steve's face carefully, but he gave nothing away as he smiled.
"Not the best, but I try," he replied. Sam went with him to the doorway and said goodbye before locking her door for the night to keep unwanted pranksters out.
After the door was secured she leaned against it and stared at her bedroom ceiling. The whole incident was over. Dr. Martins was dead. The project was stopped. Sam was free. So why did she feel like it still wasn't over?