Ha… haha… hi. I just looked on the traffic graph for this, and I have visitors from CHINA! And the Philippines! And France! Two from France, actually. I just think that that is so freaking cool. I mean, come on. CHINA! When I get into this school I'm wanting to go to, they have a Mandarin class, which I want to take. Plus China is awesome; after all, they honor dragons, and anyone who honors dragons is awesome. So there.

I only own the OCs.

Rhiannon was starting to wonder just how impossible the world was going to get. Mass supervillain breakouts over America? Long-dead super soldiers returning from their watery graves? Norse gods appearing out of the heavens? A band of superheroes?! Really, the world was starting to get even stranger than the books she'd read! Which was saying something, as she'd read some pretty strange fantasy.

But this… this was science fiction come to life. Over the past few weeks, Manhattan had been the home of one big nightmare. Not only was it weird, or even just plain terrifying, it made Rhiannon think more and more about her meeting with Nick Fury. More than once she'd caught herself thinking that perhaps her… abilities could really be tamed and used for good.

Which she told herself was crazy. Absolutely insane.

And that was before Fury decided to spill the metaphoric beans to that ragtag group of 'heroes'. Sure, it was probably so subtle they almost missed the hint, but still. It made Rhiannon a bit edgy. On the press, the famous Tony Stark had been putting out subtle, almost completely unrelated-to-subject-of-finding-her askance of her whereabouts.

Drat-fingled superspies.

And drat-fingled superheroes as well. The darned things were helpful, sure, but they didn't seem to appreciate that the city didn't have Wolverine's healing ability. Yes, the thunder-god boy and the Hulk helped out with the heavy lifting, and the others made their own contributions to clean-up, but most of the time they were so busy fighting bad guys that they were just destroying the city even more.

Then came The Monday. The Monday that shattered her world and sent her tumbling into this long venture. Oh, if only she'd simply hired a telepath to help her when Fury suggested it. Though that might have made things difficult.

That Monday, she and Terence had returned to the NYT from lunch break again, when he said, "You know, sometimes I get the feeling that you're not from this era. You take things into hand in such an old-fashioned way, but at the same time so modern, it's like you're two entities in one body."

Rhiannon, who was in a grouchy mood that day, snorted. "Which books have you been reading? The ones with spiritual happenings and unnatural occurrences?"

"No. I've been thinking. And it seems a bit… disconnected that you know so much about things that most people have almost no knowledge of: where WWII's Commandos would go—"

"Okay, seriously Ter, just stop." Rhiannon held up both of her hands in an Everything halt! gesture. "I am fairly certain that I'm not some weird survivor of WWII or something, or an immortal alien or whatever else you've managed to come up with. Really, when did you start thinking like this anyway?"

"When you stayed behind at that attack of Angry Tornado."

"Whirlwind," Rhiannon corrected. "and you're thinking I'm the Wasp?"

Terence looked caught off guard. "Well…"

"That's exactly what you're thinking. Great."

"What? Is it true?"

Rhiannon scowled at him. "Really? The Wasp has blue eyes. Do I have blue eyes? As far as I know, they were violet when I looked in the mirror this morning."

"They are violet…"

"So shush your grumbles."

Once they had gotten back to the NYT building, Rhiannon apologized to Terence for being short before being whisked off to review some of the new things on the Book Block, as everyone called it. Rhiannon got the feeling that Terence was still annoyed with her, though.

Then, of course, a supervillain or two decided it would be so much fun to smash into the side of the building. As everyone screamed and ran for the stairs, Rhiannon, who had been blown to the back, stood up, purple eyes glowing almost blindingly with violet fire. She spread her arms, feeling ghostly yet indestructible wings form around them. The rest of the bird avatar formed around her as well: an aerodynamic hawk's head, a long, sturdy tail, and clawed talons, which, as she was in the center of it, made her lift a few feet off the ground.

A flicker of fear ran through her. What if I can't control it?

Stow that talk! It's hardly going to help. Just concentrate on getting out there and doing what you're supposed to be doing! Fighting! screamed a familiar-sounding voice in the back of her mind.

Using her enormous spirit-like wings, she propelled herself out into the air of the city. Sharpened eyes immediately caught sight of her enemies: the Wrecking Crew, infamous in New York for their muscly strength and merciless destruction. Rhiannon felt her fire-filled eyes narrow to almost slits and, tucking her huge wings in, dived straight for the two with weapons.

Seeing her shadow, they looked up, and only one's face didn't turn into a mask of terror—or at least, she couldn't see any expression behind that helmet thing. With an otherworldly shriek, she caught two of them—the one with the crowbar and the one with the helmet—up in her spectral talons, rising high into the air before throwing them at their companions.

They didn't have time to dodge, and the two that Rhiannon threw cannoned into the others, creating a small crater. Before they could recover, she swooped down again and snatched up all four of them.

Since her talons, though slightly see-through, were very much real and there and sharp, she had her prizes tightly encased in pure mental energy. They couldn't move, and even their strength couldn't break her hold.

Rhiannon rose above the city, flying higher than a normal human should without being in a plane or wearing a helmet. Her prisoners didn't seem to have a problem, and her armor protected her from the thinner air. Her eagle eyes scoured the surrounding area, searching. There! In the distance, a couple of miles away from Manhattan and over the ocean, was the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier—her new destination.

In a matter of a minute and a half, she had reached it, hovering over its landing strip, waiting. After five minutes, a figure—one she easily recognized—came out onto the strip, holding a bullhorn.

"Ms. Creel, if you would set your cargo down, we would like to have a word with you."

Rhiannon rolled her eyes, before shouting down, "Do you want me to set them down or stand on them so they don't get away?"

"Whichever you would prefer."

Rhiannon spiraled down, landing surprisingly lightly, keeping the Wrecking Crew flat against the ground under her talons. Nick Fury strode up to her, single eye glaring with… well… fury. But behind that, Rhiannon saw something else. Pride, triumph, satisfaction. So the anger is just a shield, she thought. But from what?

"So, Ms. Creel, you say that you don't wish to become a superhero… and yet here you are, dropping off a group of villains that have been terrorizing the city for years."

"I don't want to be an agent of a 'secret' organization that has no protocol for what I like to do. And that is not to be used," Rhiannon replied.

"Then why are you here?"

Rhiannon glared, feeling the fire in her eyes strengthen to blazing. "Because," she said, each syllable ringing with the anger she felt, "these things nearly killed several of my friends; and maybe they have actually killed some of them. I don't take things like that lightly."

Nick smirked. "In essence, you don't have much control over your powers, yet you use them to exact revenge on a crew of villains like these?"

"No. I didn't have control over them. Now, do you want these guys as prisoners or free to destroy something else?"

"We'll take them in," Fury said hastily. "If you'll wait a moment, I'll take a jet and guide you to where we're holding the supervillains."

Rhiannon nodded, the spectral yet deadly hooked beak of her armor dipping with her. "That I can do."

Hmph. Could have gone better. I actually wrote this thing maybe three times, but I was either logged out, or I wasn't on the Internet, or some other lame excuse for my computer to be stupid.

Please review!

FF