The streets of New Orleans were alive with noise and the jewel-bright colors of Mardi Gras. It was almost too much for the young man's senses. Several drunk young ladies danced past him, adorning his neck with even more beads. So many trinkets and so much beer! Pietro Maximoff was having the time of his life. He turned around slowly, watching the giggling ladies watching him, and smiled. Sometimes, it was good to slow down and enjoy life.

A sharp pop of a firework went off nearby, and his surprise made him lose his latest admirers in the crowd. The silver haired man licked his lips, tasting cherry. He had been kissed so many times, he'd never remember all the girls tomorrow. Wiping his mouth, he waded into the closest crowded bar.

The smell around him was of sawdust, sweat, and spilled brew. Several people raised their glasses to him, and he smiled, returning the gesture. Pietro did his best to keep his advance toward the bar slow and gentle. His super speed would create bruises on the other revelers, at best. He had learned not to order anything more than beer at the other bars, because it always made the overworked bartenders roll their eyes. This time, he simply said "Large beer?" and handed over cash. The drinks were huge, bigger than his head! He made a show of taking the frothy cup in one hand as he leaned his back on the bar, looking at the crowd.

Tanned bodies writhed around him, some flirting, some enjoying the music. He had lost the other team members hours ago, preferring to wander instead of being bored at the rich parties. As Pietro's eyes panned the room, he noticed a lone figure near the band, shoulders slumped, nursing a drink, with no beads or companions. Feeling that no one should be alone at this glorious festival, he raised an eyebrow with a determined look, and headed over to chat.

The dark-haired girl paid no notice until he sat down. She glanced up, giving the kind of thin smile that expected nothing.

"Hello there. Why are you so glum? It is party!" Pietro gestured to the rest of the bar.

"My friends lost me. You can go. I'm ok." Her face was lovely, like one of Wanda's dolls.

"No, no, no…" he waved his free hand, "You are not. Here. Have some beads!" Thumping the cup down on the table, he removed half of his beads, gesturing for her to offer her neck, "Come on… smile. Ahh. There. I knew you could smile!"

The girl smirked, "You win," and bowed her head to receive her new jewelry, "Thanks." There must have been twenty of them. "Some of these are from krewes! You know, you're only supposed to give beads if a girl lifts her shirt for you."

Pietro frowned in confusion, "What is boy to do? I did nothing." He must have had the most worried face on, because the girl laughed.

"I think you are hot enough not to have to do anything." She took a large pull of her drink, "You look familiar."

That made him puff his chest up a bit, "I am one of the Avengers, hero of Sokovia. Fighter of Robot Ultron." He placed his hand to his heart, and bowed.

The girl's eyes went wide, "Oh! That's why you have all the good beads! Why aren't you at the big parties?"

"I am not sure why," Pieitro grinned. He didn't want to say the big parties were filled with boring people, "But! We are here to celebrate Tony Stark being… Bacchoos?" The word felt weird when he said it.

Grinning, she rolled her eyes, "Baccus! Fits his image, huh? He is all over the news because of his clean energy project for the city. I'm glad they chose to honor all of you, though." The girl fished in her pocket for a minute, and handed him a blue coin, "I won this, but you should have it. You will probably use it more, anyway."

Pietro took the coin, looking it over. It was silver and blue, and said "2017 Mardis Gras" with a fleur de lis in the middle. The coin was heavy, and shiny. "I don't follow."

"It's a free pass to everything in New Orleans for this whole week. Free beer, free hotel, free souvenirs. Free food along some streets." The girl shrugged, "Baccus gets the key to the city, so the hero of Sokovia should have this. Coin of the realm. That's what it's called."

He thought about it, looking at her curiously. But he had been given so much stuff in this city already. It felt wrong. "No, I can't take this from you. It is too valuable." He took her hand, placing the coin back in her palm. "Keep it. Be the life of party, yes?"

The girl sighed, taking it back, "At least let me show you around?" she stood, moving to go. Pietro followed quickly, almost spilling his beer.

Grinning down at her, he nodded with a tilt to his head to make sure she could hear, "I would love that." The young man slipped her hand onto his arm, and guided his new date through the crowd. This was better than beads, he thought.

The rest of the night was filled with jazz and smiles. The girl had shown him the best music, a bar off the beaten path that also had a patient bartender to pour him proper vodka, and finally the best beignets in town. Pietro was walking her home as the sun rose in the east, his arm around her shoulders. He hadn't noticed in the dim light of their travels, but her hair was dark green. It suited her.

She stopped in front of her apartment, and smiled at him. "Thanks for saving my night."

Her head was upturned, hopeful.

His fingers ran through her dark locks, "Thanks for making mine."

Before he could over-think, Pietro leaned down and kissed the girl deeply. She responded, her hands moving over his shoulders in a sweet embrace. This kiss held the spice of cinnamon and the sweetness of sugar from their breakfast. Pulling away, Pietro smiled warmly, his arms enfolding her, holding her close.

"Come inside." It wasn't a request. The girl's voice had gone slightly husky. She opened the door, and led him in. Pietro followed, watching the sway of her hips.

The place was sparsely furnished, and lacking artwork. On the kitchen table were several files and a computer.

The girl gestured to the sofa, "sit."

Pietro sat, only remembering after that he had wanted to use the restroom. "I need to borrow your bath…" he managed, but the girl shook her head.

"Later."

So he sat. "... I don't remember your name." He managed, his words coming out slurred.

"It's Viper," she smiled, crossing her arms in front of her chest as the drug from her lips took hold of him, "but you will call me Mistress."