DISCLAIMER: I own NADA. Once Upon a Time is the property of ABC and JJ Abrams, and Thor/Avengers is the copyright of Stan the Man, MARVEL, and Joss the Boss.
Mary Margaret sat at her usual table in Granny's, sipping a cup of coffee as she read through her book. It felt good to be out of that cell and in the open again. It felt even better to not have people call her tramp whenever they saw her. Yes, it was nice to have things back to normal.
"You need a refill Double M?" Ruby asked, balancing the tray on one hand, while the other rested on her popped hip.
Mary Margaret smiled. "No thanks Ruby, but I could use . . ." Mary Margaret drifted off as she stared out the window.
There was a man out there; blonde, tall, well-muscled, and foreign. Mary Margaret had never seen him before. Which was . . . odd, because people never came to Storybrooke. Well, except Emma . . . . and August . . . .
"Something wrong Double M?" Ruby asked, following Mary Margaret's gaze and grinning appreciatively.
"Oooh, check out the yummy new guy," she practically purred.
Mary Margaret wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, but thankfully, a response wasn't needed.
Because the man walked in the door.
He had a powerful stride, and he held his head high. He also threw both doors open as he entered, which was a bit melo-dramatic in Mary Margaret's eyes. But then again, this whole guy radiated dramatics, what with that long hair of his, the leather pants and the tunic he was wearing . . . .
Maybe he was a method actor or something.
"I require sustenance!" he boomed.
Ruby arched an eyebrow and smirked, but before she could saunter over to the man, Granny came out and walked over to the man, frowning over her spectacles. Ruby's smirk turned into a scowl, and Mary Margaret wasn't sure if the man had just been saved or thrown into the fire.
"Can I help you?" Granny asked, her voice firm and strong. Ouch, she was in a bad mood today.
"Granny better not scare him away," Ruby huffed.
"I am in need of nourishment," the man declared.
Granny nodded, her eyes closed as she exhaled. Mary Margaret winced. She knew that look. That was her "I'm too old for/It's too early for this" look.
"Right. You can go sit in that booth over there. Ruby will be there to take your order in a minute," Granny said, walking over to Ruby and hissing something in her ear. Judging by the annoyed look on Ruby's face, it was probably something akin to "no flirting."
Meanwhile, the man had sat down at his table, and was looking at the menu with an almost offended frown. Mary Margaret tried not to stare, tried to concentrate on her book . . . but it was hard.
Ruby sauntered up to the man, grinning, her hand on her hip. "See something you like handsome?"
Mary Margaret almost choked on her coffee. Ruby!
"I would like a roasted hog and some mead," the man announced.
Ruby blinked in surprise, and Mary Margaret stared. Hm, he must have been preparing for some sort of Shakespearian role . . .
"We don't have roasted hogs . . . we've got sausages and steaks though!" Ruby offered.
The man sniffed. "That will suffice,"
Ruby nodded and took the menu, writing down the man's order on her notepad. "I'll get you some coffee as well," she said, looking up at the man. "And what order will that name be under?"
"Thor Odinson," the man said proudly, almost puffing out his chest.
Ruby arched an eyebrow. "Alright, Thor . . ." she said, turning and arching an eyebrow at Mary Margaret as she left for the kitchen. The schoolteacher merely shrugged in response.
Method actor. Definitely a method actor.
**line break**
Ruby came back out a little while later with the food, and Mary Margaret didn't think there was a person in the diner who wasn't staring. Was he even chewing? Or was he just vacuuming it all up into his mouth?! Mary Margaret watched in a sort of disgusted fascination. She half expected him to unhinge his jaw and then start gnawing at the table. Granny watched in distaste, but she made no move to interfere.
Until he started smashing plates.
Granny stormed out of the kitchen as soon as the first plate hit the floor, and Mary Margaret almost hid under the table right there and then. At first, Thor seemed to be amused by the old woman's anger. But Granny held her ground and kept on berating Thor, and slowly, his face morphed into one of anger, and then he was shouting things back.
Mary Margaret had never wished she were safely in a bomb shelter more. And apparently, the same thought occurred to all the other costumers, as they quickly vacated the diner.
It wasn't too long after that Emma Swan's phone was ringing in her pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID, and then answered the call, putting the phone to her ear. "Mary Margaret?"
"Oh, um, hi Emma," came the voice of Emma's flat mate. Though . . . her voice was rather quiet and scared sounding.
"Is something wrong?" Emma asked, suddenly on-guard.
"No, I'm fine. Um, I just think you should come over to Granny's real quickly,"
Emma blinked. Granny's? ". . . why?"
"Well, I just think you may need to break up a fight between Granny and this method actor,"
Emma blinked in surprise. Method actor? Since when did Storybrooke have any . . . wait a minute.
Emma groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Tall, muscular, blonde?" she asked.
There was a pause. "Uh, yeah. How'd you –"
"Long story," Emma said, exhaling. "Try to keep the almighty god of thunder from making Granny blow her top before I get there, alright?" she asked before hanging up and running a hand through her hair.
Today was going to be a long day.
Emma got into her yellow bug and drove over to Granny's, exhaling when she saw the crazy from the night before yelling at Granny. Emma sighed and got out of her car, checking the strap under her shirt to make sure the taser was still there. Couldn't be too careful . . .
Satisfied she had the means to restrain the loon if necessary, Emma walked into the diner.
" – you dare to threaten the son of Odin?" Thor demanded in his loud booming voice.
"I don't care if you're the son of Jesus; you don't get to come into my diner, destroy my property, and then refuse to pay compensation," Granny exclaimed, looking almost purple with anger.
Emma arched an eyebrow. "There a problem here?" she asked.
Granny turned around, her face still stormy, and Thor growled, his eyes barely flicking towards Emma.
"Sheriff Swan, this man came into my diner, broke my dishes, and has refused to pay damages," Granny said. Thor scoffed.
Emma exhaled and looked over at Thor. "Look, if you break it, you buy it. If you don't pay her back for the broken plates, I'm going to have to bring you into the station for property damage,"
Thor growled at her. "You are nothing but a puny mortal! You do not get to tell me what to do!"
Emma arched an eyebrow at him coldly. "Well, in addition to being a 'puny mortal,' I also happen to be the Sheriff here, which means I'm in charge of taking care of people who don't follow the rules. So either you give Granny the money you owe her, or I'm going to have to arrest you," Emma said, putting her hands on the table and leaning forward, looking Thor in the eye.
Thor frowned, and lightning blue eyes met stunning green in a clash. Neither one blinking, neither one looking away.
"I refuse to bend to the will of a Midgardian," Thor hissed, his eyes flashing dangerously.
Emma's expression didn't change. "Fine," she said, walking nonchalantly over to Thor and pulling out the handcuffs. She was about to snap them onto his wrist , but he growled and roughly pushed her away. "Do not touch me,"
Emma arched an eyebrow. "You gonna come to the station quietly then? Or just make things easier for everyone and pay the damn damages,"
Thor growled. "I should not have to be subjected to this!" he roared as he stalked towards the door. Emma frowned.
"Oh no you don't," she said as she pulled out the taser. Thor scoffed.
"So puny a weapon?" he taunted.
"One last chance pal," Emma warned.
Thor rolled his eyes and kicked the table at her.
Emma's eyes widened, and she dove to the side to avoid the projectile. Emma looked up in time to see Mary Margaret – where'd she come from? – run up to Thor.
"Hey!" she shouted.
Thor turned and glared. "I have no time for – ah!" he cried out, covering his eyes as Mary Margaret sprayed a can of what looked to be pepper spray in his eyes. And as he stumbled around, trying to get the burning substance out of his eyes, Ruby came up behind him and hit him in the head with a frying pan. Thor started to fall forward, his eyes glazed over a bit, and then Granny punched him in the face, causing him to fall to the ground, already unconscious from Ruby's blow.
Emma stared at the three women wide eyed. Ho. Ly. Crap.
Mary Margaret looked over at Emma and walked over to her, worry clear on her face. "Are you okay?" she asked.
Emma nodded a bit breathlessly. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, staring at the fallen Thor.
"Thanks," she said after a moment.
Granny sniffed. "My pleasure," she said, wrapping her shawl around herself.
Emma looked over at Mary Margaret. "Where were you?"
Mary Margaret looked a bit sheepish. "I was uh . . . hiding under the table,"
"And I was in the kitchen," Ruby piped up.
Mary Margaret tilted her head at Thor. "Where'd he come from . . . ?"
Emma exhaled and crouched down, slinging his arm over her shoulders and standing up, awkwardly carrying him. "I don't know, but I'm taking him to the hospital before anywhere else. I need to make sure he doesn't have a concussion," she said, giving Ruby a pointed look. The brunette looked down, but Emma could see the satisfied smirk on her face.
Mary Margaret looked up at Emma. "Is there anything I can do?"
Emma looked over her shoulder as she walked to the door with Thor. "Yeah, keep Henry out of trouble,"
August parked his motorcycle by the magic well, taking his helmet off and exhaling. He shook his head to get rid of the helmet hair, and then looked around with a smile. He loved this spot. Something about it reminded him of home. He gulped back the lump in his throat. Thinking of home brought wonderful memories to mind, but it also led him to inevitably thinking of Father, and thinking of Father led him to thinking of how he'd failed him . . .
August – or rather, Pinocchio exhaled and shook his head, hanging his helmet on the handlebars of his bike and climbing off the vehicle, wincing slightly at the pain in his leg. It'd gotten worse last night. He had been sitting in his room looking over some plans for Operation Cobra – supplied by Henry, of course – when he all of a sudden lost the feeling in his leg up to his shin. Needless to say, Pinocchio was extremely alarmed by this development. The spread had been going at a relatively constant rate until last night. What had caused it to spike like that? Had a burst of magic suddenly appeared in Storybrooke and then vanished just as quickly? The thought was both troubling and relieving. That meant Emma was close to breaking the curse if fairytale land was starting to bleed through . . .
Sighing, Pinocchio leaned on the well, closing his eyes and listening to the echoes drifting up out of it. The peaceful atmosphere was disturbed, however, by an alien noise. Pinocchio frowned. Now that was strange . . .
It was a sort of metallic humming sound, and it most definitely had not been there before. But it wasn't coming from the well . . .
Opening his eyes, Pinocchio looked around, trying to find the source of the sound. It sounded like an electrical generator of some sort . . . but what would something like that be doing here?
His curiosity peaked, Pinocchio started limping towards the sound. It led him through a thicket of trees and straight towards . . .
Pinocchio stopped, staring wide eyed. What was that?
A giant crater lay in front of Pinocchio, fallen trees encircling it. And in the direct center of the crater was a hammer.
It looked like a sort of war hammer, but it had to be incomplete, as the handle was too short. No one would be able to do much other than hold it. It would require inhuman strength to be able to actually wield it. And yet . . .
Pinocchio's eyes widened in excitement. This couldn't be an ordinary hammer. It created this crater, for one, and he realized now that it had to be what caused the spike in the . . . infection's growth.
It was magic.
His eyes alight, Pinocchio walked up towards the hammer and reached out his hand, encircling the hilt of the hammer and grasping it . . .
. . . only to jerk his hand back immediately, hissing. The moment he'd touched the thing, the wood had spread up to his knee.
Yep, it was magic alright.
Pinocchio shook his head to get rid of the tingling feeling as he looked around. What was he going to do? He couldn't even touch the thing, so moving it was out of the question. But he couldn't leave it here, either. This thing was obviously powerful, and if it fell into the wrong hands – like the Queen or Rumplestiltskin's – everyone was doomed. No, they couldn't be allowed to find this.
Pinocchio frowned. Neither the Queen nor the imp came by here often . . . but he couldn't leave something like this up to chance. Both of the schemers had their spies, and at least one of them would find the hammer eventually.
Pinocchio exhaled. Maybe he'd get help from Emma or Henry, say he needed help moving it because he was allergic to the type of metal. He grinned. Or maybe turn the hammer into a sort of an Excalibur-esque object to pique Henry's interest. Of course, he could always tell the boy the truth . . .
The ex-marionette shook his head. He'd figure it out later. Right now, there wasn't much he could do other than hope the Queen and Rumplestiltskin didn't already know about the hammer.
As Pinocchio walked away, a keen pair of eyes glittered from the bushes. A Cheshire-like grin spread on the figure's face as he placed his hat back on his head.
It wasn't easy to get on the nerves of Agent Phil Coulson, but right now, he was about ready to break something – or someone.
The cause of Agent Coulson's annoyance was, in fact, a GPS. He was tracking the cause of a space anomaly that occurred thirteen hours prior for Nick Fury, head of S.H.I.E.L.D. His job was to find the cause – or any evidence of the anomaly – and report back to Director Fury so the site could be secured and the proper analysis performed.
And his GPS was not cooperating.
He had managed to track the energy signature of whatever was leftover from the lightning storm a few miles outside Boston when his GPS started malfunctioning. He drove in circles around Boston thanks to the damn thing, and after finally discarding it and relying on a compass and an energy tracker alone . . .
He had managed to get hopelessly lost.
He had ended up driving on some mountain path in the middle of a forest. The GPS currently said he was in the middle of a lake, the energy signature kept on changing, and the compass currently said north was in the direction of Texas.
Coulson pinched the bridge of his nose. This was not going well. He had orders to find evidence in less than 24 hours, but at this rate, that wasn't going to happen.
Clouson rubbed his head. This wasn't looking good. Something was interfering with all his tech, so he couldn't find this place, and S.H.I.E.L.D. was under pressure from multiple other organizations to find a cause of the storm, and if they didn't find one soon, funds were going to be cut.
Coulson froze as a thought occurred to him. The tech was failing, that was clear. So maybe they needed something else . . .
Coulson hesitated, and then pulled his phone out, both relieved and irritated that he still had a weak signal. Sighing, Coulson dialed it, and held the phone to his ear.
It didn't take long for the other end to pick up.
"Coulson, I trust you've found something?" Fury's voice came through.
Coulson paused. "Not exactly, Director Fury,"
A bit of silence. "What do you mean?"
Coulson explained the situation, Fury cursed.
"Sir, if I might make a suggestion . . ." Coulson trailed off.
A beat, and then a sigh from Fury. "What did you have in mind, Agent?" came the Director's tired voice.
Coulson paused. "I think we need to call in a consultant," he finally said.
Another pause from Fury. "Stark? You said yourself that tech was malfunction, Coulson,"
Coulson paused again, and licked his lips. "Not Stark, sir. A different consultant,"
Another pause, and Coulson could almost hear the click in Fury's head as he realized who the agent was suggesting. But he still asked.
"Which one?" Fury finally posed the question that both had been dreading.
Coulson licked his very dry lips once again. If he said this, there was no turning back.
" . . . the strange one,"
*giggles maniacally* I actually have a whole plot planned out for this story, which is a first for me. I normally wing this sort of thing, but I have this aaaaaaaaaaalll planned out.
Cookie if you can guess who Coulson was talking about! 8D If you have knowledge of MARVEL that extends past the movies – even if you've just seen a few episodes of Ultimate Spiderman, you'll probably know. ;)
Until next update! ;D
~FantasticMisticalWonder (FMW/Wonder)