I know I should probably be working on Defeating Evil but I had to get this out of my head! So, without further ado, Chapter 2!

You know when you first walk into Subway, and the scent of fresh baked bread and deliciousness hits your nostrils like a freight train?

That was how it was like walking into the Helicarrier's cafeteria.

It was louder and more crowded then I though it would be at 8:40 pm. People in business suits and black SHIELD jumpsuits were everywhere. Some in line at the multiple food joints around the room, others sitting at the many steel tables. I looked around the circular room, slightly in awe that these people were all wearing pretty much the same thing. I was kind of like a twisted episode of Star Trek.

"So, how does this work?' I turned to Coulson, motioning towards the different food joints.

"It's just like any cafeteria," he explained with no emotion. "You get in like, tell them what you want, get your food, and sit down."

Well, this guy was a bucket of sunshine. "Okay..." I sighed out. I looked at the signs on the different places. Taco Bell. McDonald's. Panda Express. Some weird vegan looking place, amongst others. I bit my lip, looking back over at Coulson. He seemed to be considering the options as well. "What do you want?" I asked awkwardly.

He half smiled, or something close to that, and I followed his eyes to the red and blue sign that read out 'Dominos Pizza'. Hey, this dude's got good taste.

"You did mention pizza earlier." He motioned for me to follow as we booked it to the end of the line. There were a lot of excuse me's and after you's as we waded through the throng of agents, and it wasn't until Coulson and I were awkwardly pushed up against each other in line that I spotted the long scarlet cape and the greying hair.

Bad Hair Day and Specs were making their way over to Vest Dude and Ginger Barbie, who were sitting at a large table near the center of the room. Bad Hair Day sat down heavily, greeting the already sitting duo heartily, which was return with not nearly as much enthusiasm. Specs then placed his tray on the table, nodded subtly, and set his behind in the chair with caution, as if worried he might break it.

I observed the duet turned quartet, then mentally kicked myself. Of course, of all things, I would use orchestra terms. Then I thought about my school band, and how I was supposed to go to festival with them in a couple of days. My dad was so excited to chaperon, and - no, you will not think about that, Gabby. Think about anything else. Push that thought out of your mind and onto the floor and stomp on it.

I subconsciously inched up in line as I sought out the other two members of the team I had been in the company of earlier in an attempt to distract myself. Ah, there's Mr. Stark, chatting up some unsuspecting cashier who's just trying to give him his change. The twenty something girl blushes as he leans on the counter, and even from across the room, I can see the smirk. A blue thermal suddenly catches my view, and over yonder walks Mr. Tall, Not So Dark, But Definitely Handsome. He's standing in front of a soda machine, looking immensely confused. He reaches out, unsure, and gently pushes the black lever. Coke-A-Cola spurts out of the nozzle, and he pulls his hand back quickly in surprise.

Quiet chuckles bubble up in my throat as I watch him grab at least twenty napkins in an attempt to wipe the sticky liquid off his hands. Now he just looks exasperated.

"Hello, Miss, what can I get you?"

I turn my head quickly and make eye contact with the older woman behind the cash register. I hadn't realized I was already in the front of the line. "I, uhh - small hand-tossed with pepperoni and Italian sausage," I relayed quickly out of habit. "And a, uhh, a water." She pressed a few keys on the register and I quickly added a "please" as an afterthought. God, where were my manners?

"That'll be $9.50," the older lady deadpanned.

My awkward smile faded quickly as I remembered something. I have no cash. Awesome. "Um, I, uhhh..."

A voice materialized on my right. "She's with me."

I glanced over at Coulson as he smiled tautly at the woman.

"Whatever," she said, bored. "Next person in line, please!"

"You didn't have to do that, you know." We walked through tables full of agents and I was careful to not drop my newly bought - well, not bought - meal. I had scoured out a table near the wall of the room, which was actually just a huge window, and far away from the super-table. I made a bee-line for it.

I could hear Coulson's confused voice from behind me. "Of course I did. What else would you have done?"

"I don't know. Not eat?"

"That's ridiculous," he stated with finality.

We finally made it to the table, and I gazed out the overly large window-wall. We were somewhere in the Pacific, I think. It was a clear night, so the stars reflected brightly off of the calm water. The airplane runway was lit up, but beyond that was darkness; the crescent moon granted little light. I looked off to the horizon, where the sky meets the sea, and the water swallows the stars. My inside voice suddenly spoke to me: Don't you dare get sentimental, Gabriella.

I quickly looked away and set my meal on the metal table, sitting my butt on the hard steel chair. I placed my hands in my lap as Coulson set his stuff down as well.

"You don't have to sit with me if you want." He looked at me, smirking. I hurried on. "I mean, you can if you want, but, I mean, I figured you'd want to hang out with your superhero friends, or something."

He sighed and placed his paper cup of the table. "I'm going to go get napkins."

"Oh, uhh, okay. You do that," I said as he stalked off across the large room.

I opened my small pizza box and sighed contently as the smell wafted towards me. "Praise the good Lord in Heaven." I was about to take a huge bite when I noticed the occupants at the super-table. Mr. Perfect and Tony Stark has joined them, and whole group were discussing something quietly that seemed important. The ginger suddenly shot a look at me, and I quickly averted my eyes back to my pizza. Great. Now that I know they're looking at me, I'll never be able to eat. I hate people watching me eat. It's just awkward.

I suddenly heard multiple chairs scrap across the ground, and I looked up to see the whole gang coming towards me. Oh god. What are they doing?! Shit, I think they're gonna sit with me or something. Don't be awkward, don't be awkward, don't be awkward!

I stared intently at my open pizza box as if it held the secret of the universe. The footsteps grew closer and louder until I felt a tap on my shoulder. I probably just at least three feet in the air, startled. Wow, Gabby. Just wow. I turned my head around to make eye contact with Specs. The whole gaggle was behind him, waiting. He must have been chosen as the ambassador.

"Miss McNeeson, may we join you?"

I stuttered. "Uh-umm y-yeah. Sure, I guess." I nodded to a chair. "Coulson's sitting there, though."

Stark suddenly plopped down across from me as everyone else chose a chair. Bad Hair Day appeared on my right, and I was suddenly thankful that there was the window-wall on my left and no room for someone to sit there, too.

I glanced at everyone at the table. I realized I didn't know their names (except for Stark, of course).

Apparently Specs could read my thought or something, because the next words that came out of his mouth were, "I should probably introduce everybody." Yup, definitely the ambassador.

He began listing everyone off and indicating which name belonged to whom. "Clint Barton," Vest Dude raised his eyebrows in greeting. "Natasha Romanoff," Ginger Barbie looked up from her salad and smiled half-heartedly. "Steve Rogers," Mr. Perfect extend his hand to me, which I hesitantly took, and shook my hand firmly, greeting me with a "ma'am". Swoon. Next was "Thor Odinson", who just so happened to be sitting next to me. Thor, where had I hear that name before? Oh well, it'll come to me. I focused back on Specs as he concluded the introductions. "And, of course, you already know Tony," (who was still staring intently at me, by the way.) These people were on a first name basis with each other? Weeeiiirrd. "I'm Bruce Banner." He smiled kindly at me as I took it all in.

"The Avengers," I added the unspoken thought for him. I looked around at everyone. "Nice to meet you. You all probably know who I am by now, thanks to that manilla folder," I motioned to said folder under Barton's elbow. He looked slightly sheepish as I threw him under the bus.

Everyone was still looking at me. Well, so much for not being awkward. "You can, like, eat, or whatever."

That was all they needed. Everyone dug into their meal. That is, everyone but Stark. He continued to stare at me, disregarding his Taco Bell burrito.

Coulson appeared and took his seat, not saying a word. No one else seemed to notice. He hadn't even brought napkins. I soon figured he must have left on purpose to provide an opportunity so everyone else could join me.

Jerk.

As Thor tore the KFC chicken off of it's bones hungrily, I tried to intake some of my pizza. Honestly, I did. But with Stark's constant honey colored eyes on me, it was impossible.

After a few minutes of his constant stare, I spoke. "Can I help you, Mr. Stark?" Steve Rogers looked up from the crossword puzzle he was working on, as did Banner tear his eyes away from his Filipino cuisine. No one else seemed too worried about it.

Stark smirked at me. "No. You're fine."

I sighed, annoyed, and looked back at my still uneaten pizza. Everyone at the table was finishing their food and talking amongst themselves. I looked up and noticed Banner's eyes were flashing between Stark and I. We made eye contact and I looked back down again.

Someone cleared their throat. I glanced up. It was Banner. Of course.

"So, Miss McNeeson," he started, unsure, "What are your favorite classes at your high school?"

Really? You're going with that approach? I decided to not be rude and answer him. "Um, well I'm really interested in history." If Steve Rogers were a dog, his ears would be perked up. "Right now, we're learning about the Russian revolution. Vladamir Lenin. Joseph Stalin. Communism. All that stuff." Miss Romanoff visible tensed as I spoke of these matters, but I shrugged it off. Maybe there was a hair in her salad or something. A sudden thought occurred to me. "Well, I mean, I was learning about it..."

Banner smiled at me, wiping his hands on a napkin. "Anything else?"

I pulled my hair tie off of my wrist for the second time that day and began twisting it around my fingers. "I'm in the wind ensemble. And the water polo team. And the swim team."

"Well, someone's a busy bee."

I turned my head dramatically towards Stark. "Can you please, like, not stare at me anymore?" My parents were right, he is kind of a dick. No, Gabby, don't think about them.

Coulson looked up at my short tone, as did the rest of the table. Barton raised an eyebrow at Miss Romanoff, to which she subtly shook her head.

I saw that out of my peripheral, considering I was having a mini staring contest with Tony Stark.

"Why?" He smirked. He then eyed the hair tie wrapped around my fingers. "Does it make you nervous?"

I slammed my hands down on the table, almost knocking over Thor's drink. Some agents at near tables were eying us with confusion, but I didn't care at the moment. I felt like poison dart could come out of my retinas any second as I glared at Stark. My meal forgotten on the table, I stood up, my chair caught as collateral damage as it clattered to the floor.

"Ma'am, now hold on a second-"

The rest of Steve Rogers' sentence was lost in the large chatty food court as I stormed away like a tornado, heading for the nearest door.

Ta-freakin-da! I hope you guys liked it! Man, I wrote this while I was supposed to be doing English homework! Damn you guys! But I've already started on chapter 3, soooooo.. Yeah.

Please remember to REVIEW! It gives me encouragement to continue! Thanks lovies (:

~Z