Queens, New York
I woke up to the sound of guitar playing coming from my nightstand and footsteps running around outside my room. John Frusciante's distinct strumming came alive as my eyes opened and the classic Red Hot Chili Peppers song Can't Stop starts up properly. I reached over to my phone and turned off the alarm, pulling myself out of the twin bed I'd been sleeping in for the past two years. I walked past my folded helmet and suit cartridge on my out to the bathroom and dug out a simple dress from my closet. I avoided colliding with a small running boy by pivoting on the spot, and entered the bathroom to take a quick shower. I recoiled as the cold water hit my body but sunk down as it slowly got warmer. I let most of the water drip off my body before stepping out and drying myself off. I tied my hair up as much as I could after brushing the shoulder-length locks, then slipped on the dress. I hung the towel outside my room's window, using the dead electrical cables as a clothesline, and put on a simple chain before heading out to the kitchen.
May was already slaving away over the stove, flipping fluffy blueberry pancakes. I went to the refrigerator and took out maple syrup, orange juice and whipped cream, setting them on the small dining table beside the kitchen. May acknowledged me with a small smile and asked me to set the table with the rest of the utensils which I did in a few measly seconds.
"Did you sleep all right?" May asked.
"The usual," I replied. "Same old nightmare."
"The one where your parents..."
I nodded and May sighed, rubbing my shoulder comfortingly. There was a loud crash in the apartment and both of us rolled our eyes. May nodded her head towards the sound and I chuckled, standing up and walking towards the source of the racket. Eleven year old Peter Parker was hanging upside down from his bunk bed, wearing an Iron Man mask. An entire Lego blocks collection was spread out all over the ground.
"Kid, you're gonna get a world of hurt if you're not dressed and sitting at that table in five minutes," I said.
"Are you gonna give me a world of hurt?" Peter asked, his voice distorted by the mask.
"Hell, no. Aunt May is."
Peter gasped and dropped to the ground, running around everywhere. He stuffed his Lego bricks back into their container, threw the Iron Man mask back into his closet and ravaged it to find suitable clothing. I chuckled and helped the boy tie up his shirt, then he dashed out into the kitchen with a wide innocent smile plastered onto his face. May smiled knowingly at me as Peter sat down and began to stuff his face with pancakes.
"You walking him to school again?" she asked.
"Yeah, it's on my way to work," I replied, sipping on a cup of tea May had made for me.
"How's that going by the way? Still only an apprentice baker?"
"No, I've gone up the ranks a bit. Pascal's hired another assistant and apparently I'm qualified enough to train him now."
"That's great!"
"Hey, sis! Do you think you can bring me the leftover eclairs when you come back?" Peter asked, his mouth full of pancakes.
"Yeah, I'll ask Pascal if I can take a few."
"All right, Pete, enough with the whipped cream, you gotta go."
Peter jumped up from his seat and I used a damp cloth to wipe off all the maple syrup from his face before pushing him towards the door. We both put on our shoes and coat, and I grabbed Peter's backpack before we both headed out the door. I watched my feet take steps across the dirty sidewalk, my pristine leather flats next to Peters half-destroyed sneakers. It was like this every morning. Breakfast, bring Peter to school, go to work, grab Peter on my way back and give him whatever confection he'd asked for that day. This morning was no different. I dropped Peter off at school and handed him his bag. He hugged me tightly before leaving, bouncing up the sidewalk until he was safely inside the school. My walk to Café Madeleine wasn't much more eventful. A few people said hello to me on my way, regular customers at the bakery I worked at, and others simply stared at me for reasons I wasn't sure about.
The bakery smelled like Pascal's iconic lemon madeleines upon entering, and the tall thin man greeted me with a smile, hands full of custard. I went to the back and dropped all my things and returned to the front with an apron on. I washed my hands and the underside of my nails thoroughly before I got my hands on the almond financiers, the next item to bake on the list Pascal made every morning. The batter was completed and in the molds by the time the madeleines were out of the oven and cooling, so I took them out and dropped the financiers inside, setting a timer.
"'Ere is the custard for the Mille-Feuilles, Ilaria. Can you put it in the fridge and begin the, oh how do you say, the pâte feuilletée..."
"The puff pastry, Pascal," Ilaria corrected.
"Si, si ! The puff pastry!"
"I'll get right on it."
"Good. The other personne I 'ired is late and it was to be 'is job. Apparently, you are the only one I can trust, Ilaria."
I sighed and got on with the task Pascal had asked her to complete. It had been like this for a while. Ever since I was hired, Pascal had been hiring more people in the hopes of passing on his knowledge to others, but except for me, everyone else hadn't lasted more than a few weeks, either being fired or failing to show up to work completely. I had been his only permanent employee for the past two years.
All the pastries and desserts had been completed just before opening, and there was still no sign of Alex. Pascal went and opened up shop anyway, as I placed all the baked goods on display. On the top of the counter to my left, under domes of glass, were three cakes, and the other side Pascal had displayed two fruit tarts, under glass domes as well. It only took a few minutes for people to start wandering in. Most of the morning customers either bought croissants or viennoiseries for breakfast, to eat either here, as the many cozy tables on our terrasse or inside were free to be used by our customers, or taken to go to their place of work. Others came in to make special orders and some came in to get desserts for a party later in the day. In the afternoon, people often came in to simply have a sweet bite to eat and a cup of tea.
My shift was done at half past two in the afternoon, and Pascal kept the bakery open until four. I went to the back of the shop to hang my apron and grab my jacket before heading out the door with a box of eclairs for Peter. I said goodbye to a few customers on my out, smiling politely at them, and made my way down the busy streets of Queens to pick up Peter. His face lit up when he saw me, then his eyes got even bigger when he spotted to pastel blue box I was holding in my hands.
"Are those eclairs, sis!?" he practically shouted.
"Indeed they are, little man. But you can't have any until after dinner."
"Aw, come on, why not?"
"'Cause Aunt May will kill me if I feed you dessert before dinner."
"She doesn't have to know, Ilaria..."
I chuckled at the pouting boy and ruffled his hair as we walked back down to the apartment. Immediately, Peter went to do his homework on the kitchen table and I went in the kitchen to start prepping dinner for when May was to return from work. Homemade chicken pot-pie was on the menu, and the smell of buttery crust and cream sauce wafted through the apartment by the time May arrived. The small 'family' sat down to eat together, talking about our day. Peter had got the best grade on his science project, apparently, earning his class privileges for the rest of the week. He helped clean up the table and the kitchen, before he took a bath, watched a bit of television and went to bed. May and I hung out at the table, sipping tea.
"Alex, the new hire, he didn't show up today."
"I swear, Pascal should just give you a raise instead of hiring other people," May sighed.
"I'd agree, but we need to be more than two to run a bakery this size. And well, Pascal isn't getting any younger. Pretty soon it'll just be me and the bakery will have to close," I replied, then took a sip of tea. "I can't run a bakery on my own."
"You should reach out, yourself. Think about it. If you reached out to pastry schools nearby, you could get trained employees right off the bat. And I'm sure these students would love to get a job in their field right away."
"I think you're onto something, May..."
The next day after work I went to the nearest pastry schools and posted notices around the building and gave some to a few students that were coming out of the building. It took a few days, but eventually a few people had come to apply for a job at the bakery, and they were all pastry students. Pascal didn't know what to say, but the smile on his face said it all.
A week after that, there were two new hires at the bakery, Lorraine and Ian. The three of us worked really well together, and it happened that Pascal didn't show up to work because he knew we could handle it, but he'd always show up on Mondays and Fridays to make sure we'd opened and closed the week properly. Until he just... didn't. We learned one week later that Pascal Villemont had passed away in his sleep, heart stopping at half past three in the morning last Sunday. The Café Madeleine was left in the name of Ilaria Sable, Pascal's only trustworthy employee at the time of the creation of his will. For the past two years he had been grooming me to become his successor, knowing full well he had a heart condition that would take his life in the near future.
May placed a cup of tea in front of me as we sat at the kitchen table together, Peter playing video games in the living room.
"Lorraine and Ian are at the bakery now, don't worry," she said.
"That's not it," I said, wiping the tears that were falling from my eyes. "The bakery will do fine without Pascal, but I won't. I've been spending nearly every day of my life with that old bastard for the past two years. He was important to me."
"I know, sweetheart, I know..."
"Look, I've got to go close up shop. I still haven't taught Lorraine or Ian how. I'll be back later."
I threw on my coat over my sweater and slipped my feet into my shoes then stepped outside and walked to the bakery. It didn't take long for Lorraine and Ian to understand the protocol and to understand that I wasn't doing well at all. They continued their work in silence until their shift was over and I was left to close up shop. As I was packaging up leftover goods to bring home, a man walked in the door. I frowned. The door was locked. He was tall, imposing, and he wore a black trench coat that matched the eyepatch on his right eye.
"I'm sorry, we're closed for the day," I said, putting on my best smile. "We open at nine tomorrow morning if you want to come back."
"I'm not here for the pastries, though I have to admit you guys make a mean madeleine," the man said in a deep voice.
"Then I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"Not here for getting kicked out either."
"Okay, then I'll have to forcibly remove you and I really don't wanna do that," I said, beginning to get irritated. I could feel my own power begin to bubble in my chest. "You don't really want me to do that either."
"That's true, I wouldn't like that much, miss Sable, but I doubt you're going to hurt me."
"Care to tell me how you know my name?"
"Have you ever heard of an organisation called S.H.I.E.L.D.?" the man asked, taking a few steps forward.
I suddenly got nervous. S.H.I.E.L.D. had been all over the news recently, especially since the billionaire Tony Stark had become Iron Man. It was known even to the Xandarians, and it was a fear of mine that they had me on their radar. After all, I was a potential threat to their planet and they wouldn't waste any time taking me out if they thought I was dangerous. I had probably been on their radar since the moment I broke through the atmosphere.
"Why are you coming to see me now? I've been on Earth for two years now. Did it really take you that long to determine if I was a threat?" I said sarcastically.
"No, we've known you were dangerous from the moment an alien crashed through our atmosphere. Times have changed, though. S.H.I.E.L.D. might need your help."
"My help?"
"I'm here to talk to you about the Avengers initiative."