Guinea Pig
By Frozzy


Chapter One:

As a child, Aileen never had a hero phase. Not with her father, not with her uncle, not with a teacher, not with anyone. She has never been a princess or a damsel in distress. Aileen has never had a hero phase. And now she is stuck in a room with five of them. This is God's way of punishing her for not giving into peer pressure as a kid. She understands that now.

"She has to be monitored," the redheaded woman says.

"We can't keep her here like a pet," the Captain says.

"If we found no problems, she's a free bird. Spread her wings and all that gibberish," Stark says.

"You're saying that we should let a potential threat to the city walk outta here completely unsupervised and pick up the leftovers once she has turned batshit crazy?" Hawkeye asks.

Stark supports her release. The Captain is in doubt. Hawkeye and the redheaded woman want her put under surveillance. Bruce Banner is indifferent and Thor is absent from the room, possibly the planet. The men clad in suits (agents, maybe?) over by the door have remained silent for the entire time that the group has occupied the Avengers conference room. Also, as far as Aileen understands, this discussion is entirely unnecessary since the guy who holds the last word has failed to show up yet.

"When does this Nick Fury arrive?" Aileen cuts through the bickering. She sounds as cranky and woozy as she feels. Five heads turn to stare at her.

"I apologize for the wait, Miss Palmer," Rogers says for the tenth or fifteenth time. Aileen lost count half an hour ago. "I know that this must be very inconvenient for you."

"For us," Hawkeye adds and receives a blank stare from both Rogers and the redheaded woman.

"I was the one who got ambushed and was zapped with Loki's magical stick. I've got the bitching rights," Aileen says.

"Tony, don't comment on that," Rogers says and turns to Aileen. "I'm sure that Mr. Fury will arrive any minute now. None of us could have foreseen what happened, but we're sorry that you got dragged into it."

"Actually, I upgraded my armor last night and this might have been why the spell was repelled. I'm working on the calculations right now. Although, I've never been able to scientifically account for Loki's magic, so the effort is most likely a waste of time. But don't say I'm not trying," Stark says with a shrug.

"This isn't legal," Aileen says.

"Come on," Stark says to Aileen. "Every kid would love to be spend time with the Avengers. This is like a free trip to Disneyland."

Pinching the bridge of her nose to alleviate the faint throbs of an upcoming headache, Aileen knows that she tempted fate this morning by leaving her apartment fifteen minutes earlier than usual. If she had known that her spontaneous decision would have resulted in getting zapped with fairy godmother magic at seven o'clock in the morning, she would have slept in.

"Miss-"

The Captain's voice is cut off when the door to the conference room opens with a bang. A man dressed entirely in black, including an eye patch, floats into the room with a folder in one hand. He looks like he eats puppies for breakfast. There is no other way to describe him. Almost instinctively, Aileen wants to misbehave. What?

"Aileen Palmer, age twenty-four, blood type AB, recent graduate of Brooklyn Law School and currently unemployed, deceased mother, no siblings and no criminal record to speak of. I'm Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D."

Aileen isn't impressed by the lineup of facts.

"Is the eye patch doctor's orders, or is it a fashion statement?" she asks.

"Good one," Stark says and raises an impressed brow in Aileen's direction.

"Shut it, Stark," Fury says. "Everybody out except for Stark and Rogers. Now."

The agents by the door leave as well. Aileen very nearly jumps out of her skin when the remaining three men move in tandem and sit down in the chairs surrounding the oval table. Stark's seat is next to hers. Apparently, the seats are habitual, because why else should the three men spread out with several empty seats in between them instead of grouping together next to each other? Once seated next to her, Stark reaches down into his pocket and pulls forth a high-tech device that he begins fiddling with. It's a very deliberate action, Aileen thinks. Rogers keeps his attention fixed on Fury.

"Miss Palmer, I want you to temporarily reside within the Avengers Headquarters as of this very minute," Fury says.

"You mean here? Stark Tower?"

"Previously Stark Tower," Tony supplies. "Now the Avengers Headquarters."

Aileen doesn't feel like objecting. She isn't dumb. At this point, she has admitted to herself that it is extremely odd, if not outright alarming, that she has been zapped with a God's magic and doesn't feel any different. She ought to feel different. She has been hit with a spell and she has seen enough movies and read enough books to know that spells are a bad thing when cast from a bad guy. Loki is bad. She knows it's for the better if she stays at the Avengers Headquarters. Who knows what will happen to her once the effects of the spell truly hit her? She wants to be among people who know what they are doing when that happens. And that means going along with whatever plan that this Nick Fury has mapped out for her.

"How long is temporary?" she asks, no hissy fit.

"Considering that your situation is the first of its kind, we will have to take some tests and monitor you for an infinite amount of time until we are absolutely certain that nothing is wrong," Fury says.

"What about my apartment?"

"There is no apartment. Not after today."

"And my stuff?"

"We've already dispatched a unit that will search through the rubble and gather whatever they can."

"So I'm homeless and own nothing but the clothes off my back?"

"Perfect conditions for starting anew in the company of our delightful posse," Stark says rather insensitively.

"Sir? Might I suggest some other solution?" Rogers speaks up.

"And what would you suggest, Rogers?"

"The headquarters isn't fit for civilians. It's a danger zone and we can't very well confine her to a cell to keep her safe. Run whatever tests you need to run here in the lab, and then perhaps station Miss Palmer elsewhere? Under supervision, of course."

Fury seems to consider the suggestion. The Captain has to hold the largest vote next to the director himself.

"I'm with whatever he said," Stark says with a thumb in the Captain's direction. He has stopped tinkering with his toy and is now paying attention to the conversation.

"Thank you for volunteering, Stark," Fury says with a small smile. A small, nasty smile. Aileen blanches. What?

"You mean Tony?" Rogers asks. "You want to give Tony the responsibility of a person? A woman? I don't think-"

"I have a girlfriend, you know," Stark cuts in.

"You have a friend who is a girl," Rogers says.

"And what would you know about relationships? I'm sure you had some nice intimate moments with the penguins out in the Arctic Ocean."

"Shut up both of you," Fury says and straightens up. "Stark, this is an order."

"I'll take her if you insist," Stark says. "You get to explain it to Pepper, though."

Aileen doesn't know what to say.

Typically, in the movies, this is the part were the female lead loses her shit and goes nuts, screaming and yelling and generally just being a whiny bitch. Aileen doesn't feel like doing any of those things. Her life will be put on hold and she is set to become a guinea pig in the very near future. She knows when she has no chance of winning a battle, however, and this battle has been pure roadkill from the start. She won't waste her breath on trying to convince herself otherwise. This is it. This is where life has led her. Fantastic.

"I'm in," she says. "I'll go with your plan."

Apparently that is enough of a green light for Fury to change the topic: "As long as we have no data to go by, Thor should be our best option in case any abnormalities should occur. He'll stop by Stark's place and do a once over of Miss Palmer."

Stark raises his hand. "Isn't he still filling in for his father, working on that new political reform?"

"Then pray that his damned brother decides to blast up half of the city and he's forced to make a premature return because we're running high and dry here. You're all dismissed. Rogers, escort Miss Palmer down to the laboratory."

Aileen Palmer, newly acquired pet of the Avengers squad, is moving in with Tony Stark. She honestly thinks she deserves quite a bit of points for being this cooperative. It doesn't matter that she will have no roof over her head if she says no. She still deserves major extra points for her cooperativeness.


Her arm is experiencing a severe case of anemia by the time that she is released from the laboratory.

"Miss Palmer? I'm here to escort you to Stark's car," the redheaded woman from earlier announces upon entering the examination room. The doctor is wrapping up Aileen's blood samples, storing in containers for later examination.

"We should introduce ourselves," the red-headed woman says. "I'm Natasha Romanoff."

"Aileen Palmer."

With polite gestures out of the way, the two women exit the laboratory with Romanoff in the lead.

"How does this work? This whole tower thing?" Aileen asks. Rubbing the inside of her elbow, she winces when her sore skin protests against the pressure. She has never been hospitalized, so she has no experience to draw from, but she is fairly sure that the last six hours she has spent inside the lab hasn't been very considerate in nature. She isn't supposed to feel violated. Then again, that may just be a result of the situation in general.

"The lower levels are reserved for S.H.I.E.L.D," Romanoff explains. "The upper levels have private quarters for the Avengers team."

"Should I know what S.H.I.E.L.D means? Or are you not at liberty to say?"

She thinks she sees the taller woman crack a smile. "S.H.I.E.L.D is the official corporation legalizing what we do. They rank from board of directors to operating units. Whatever agents you see around here are employed by S.H.I.E.L.D."

"I thought the Avengers were the operating unit?"

"We are the independent operating unit."

"Implying that you're not employed by S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"Implying that we're elitist," Romanoff says easily. "You adapt well. That is an admirable trait."

The change of subject is abrupt and it takes some seconds for Aileen to realize that the other woman has complimented her. Truthfully, she does adapt well, but it commonly backfires on her. Most of her bad trips come from belated shock, and it will catch her by outmost surprise if this situation doesn't end up like that as well. She is counting on it, to be honest. For now she is working on keeping the shock postponed. She doesn't want to lose her shit in public. It is a matter of pride, and she has given up enough of that for today. She is set to give up even more during these next couple of weeks. Perhaps it is childish, but if she can't control her surroundings, she can at least control her reaction to them.

The trip to Stark's New York penthouse is a true test of Aileen's self-restraint. Stark is a man of many words and over half of them are complete excess, filling out spots in the conversation that aren't there. So, instead of listening to the man that she is riding shotgun to, Aileen decides to carefully count the seams of the upholstery within the car. She wants to keep her mind occupied, and she actually manages to keep it occupied until the point where Stark pulls the car to a halt outside his home.

"You're a silent one, aren't you?" he questions and looks at her over the rim of his sunglasses. "Never mind. Let's give you the grand tour. I'm putting you in the eastern guestroom, I think. It's been looking sad and dull for months. It could use some action."

The home of Tony Stark doesn't disappoint. It is edges and straight lines all around, and Aileen refrains from touching anything at all. She is absolutely certain that her fingers will get cut off upon contact if she does.

"You should know that my AI likes to poke his sticky fingers into business that isn't his," Tony warns her. Nodding to herself, Aileen follows him as he makes his way towards the eastern part of the building. He walks at a brisk pace that clearly indicates his hurry to be done with his host gig. She can work with that. She doesn't feel like playing the guest gig much longer.

"Your AI is gendered?" she asks and notices that they have just passed what looks like an original Monet. If Tony is surprised that she knows what an AI is, he doesn't show it.

"Well, he would get offended if I called him an it, wouldn't he?"

"Why did you agree to this?" she asks and stops walking. Stark stops, too.

"Compensation? We did sort of trash your home. And since I'm babysitting you, I get to ditch Avengers patrol duty. Boring stuff, I tell you. This is all working out great for each of us."

So, she is doing the man a lot of unintentional favors.

"I need clothes. To sleep in," she says.

"You sleep in clothes?"

She is about to fling out a nasty comment, when she is interrupted by a bodiless voice.

Sir, may I suggest you choose from the garments that Miss Potts keeps stationed in the master suite?

"Yes, there might be something in there that fits," Stark agrees and taps his chin thoughtfully.

"Jarvis?" Aileen guesses and looks up at the ceiling.

"Don't get fooled by his accent. He's vicious. And why do people always assume that they should talk to the ceiling?" Stark asks with a shake of his head.

"Who is Pepper?" Aileen asks.

"That's a difficult question," Stark says. "Next one, please."

Aileen is delighted to find that the guestroom isn't as high-tech as the rest of the penthouse. It is fairly low key, but still a great deal fancier than her old apartment. A stab of distress pokes at her gut, when she realizes that she has lost most, if not all, of her personal belongings. She will have to restock everything that can be restocked. She will also need to get a hold of a phone so she can call her father. Strangely, she doesn't remember the battle as having been that destructive or intense. Is her entire building ruined? To be honest, she doesn't remember a whole lot of the incident, and she prefers it that way. Although, in hindsight, she is pretty sure that nothing flew through the air except for Loki and Stark in his suit. And an entire building has collapsed without her noticing? Or being hit by the rubble? Something smells. And it's not Aileen's dirty and grimy body. She didn't get a chance to shower at the Avengers Headquarters.

"Mr. Stark?" Aileen addresses the older man as he returns with a pajama set.

"Yes, my dear?"

"What if he comes here?" she asks.

"The bogey man?"

"Loki."

She can't phantom why he would do so, but the idea is still stuck in her head.

"If he does, Jarvis will alert us," Stark says.

She nods. "And you will iron man his ass."

"Wouldn't miss that chance."

"Do you have cameras in here?" Aileen asks.

"Are you implying that I have voyeuristic tendencies?"

"Do you ever just answer a question?"

"Why?"

She tries not to let the irritation show on her face, but she is pretty sure that she fails when Stark throws her a roguish grin. She feels like kicking herself in the gut, when she realizes that she actually finds the man relatively likeable compared to the rest of the Avengers. He isn't as serious. He lets her forget that she is carrying around a spell cast by an Asgardian God wearing clothes tighter than her own.


At 4:00 am that night she wakes up and looks down at her body. Her skin shines a luminescent green. She spends a couple of nonreactive minutes on studying the odd phenomenon. Her skin is glowing like a radioactive light bulb. She sits up in the bed and calmly addresses the ceiling. "Uh, Jarvis, right? Are you… on? Don't frighten Stark, but I'm glowing green. Like, E.T. slime green?"

An hour later, she loses her shit. But to be fair, it's the first time she does so since this wretched situation occurred. She's in the presence of the Avengers team and Nick Fury, and she doesn't stop losing her shit until they shove a needle with drugs into her arm. Then she stops.

"Contact Thor. I don't care how. Get him down here," Fury says.

"What do you intend to do, sir?" Rogers asks.

"Make him confront Loki and strike up a deal. Loki is smart. He will listen if the situation is in his favor."

"Isn't that too aggressive an approach? Risking an unstable truce with the enemy for the sake of a civilian?" Clint asks.

"This would be why you've got bad luck with the ladies, Barton," Tony says.

"I'm green!" Aileen says. Her drugged mind finds this a very valid observation. "Green like Loki. Pretty Loki."

"Did she call Loki pretty?" Clint asks.

"He is," Natasha says. Next to her, Clint shoots her a look.

"Drop the banter," Fury orders. "We've got work to do. Stark, you've still got full responsibility of Miss Palmer. Report any changes directly to me."

"Of course," Tony answers. "I'll hospitalize her here in my own home, never mind the fact that we're overpaying a gazillion other people to do exact same thing for a livi-"

"I turn yellow if I poke myself! Look, look! Yellow!"


.edited 11/6/14.