Author: EnyaAzari
Rating: T
Hello everyone. This installment mainly revolves around the conclusion of last chapter's "disagreement" and the introduction of Jane and Darcy. Feel free to send me suggestions of what you would like you would like to see in upcoming installments.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN MARVEL
Hailstorm
...
"No way in hell."
The initial excitement that had bubbled in the pit of Peter's stomach, dissipated.
"Did you just say no, Stark?"
"You know what I said jackass. Peter is a kid. He's too young."
Peter's sentiment crashed. Just a kid… Fury quirked a dark eyebrow.
"Unfortunately for you Stark, it's not your decision. Although you can offer suggestions to Peter, it is ultimately his choice. Plus, I only need one signature. I'm quite sure that I can blackmail Agent Barton or Thor into validating the authorization form." Fury smirked.
"Fury, buddy, Peter isn't old enough. I mean, come on, all of the Avengers are of legal age, at least."
"Stark, are you aware of Clint Barton's and Natasha Romanoff's drafting ages?"
"No, but I hardly think that has …"
Fury cut the billionaire off. "Barton was seventeen, Peter's age. Romanoff was nineteen."
Starks eyebrows shot up. "Seriously?"
"Do I look like a man who tends to make pointless puns and worthless jokes?"
"I'm not sure that you want me to answer that truthfully Nick."
Maria Hill rubbed her temple, her eyes shut tightly. Frankly, Peter didn't blame the agent. The bickering pair was giving him the vilest migraine of his life.
"Are you saying that you have a problem with the way I run things?" Fury all but bellowed.
"Yes, yes I am."
Peter, sensing that the tension filled debate was rapidly approaching a physical endeavor, made his move.
"Does anyone care what I think about all this?"
The bickering pair stopped their persistent, personal jabs. Fury gave him a pointed look, clearly indicating that the teenager should voice his opinion then and there.
"I would be honored to join the Avengers…" Peter began hesitantly.
Stark groaned. Fury looked ready to hug the adolescent. This disturbed the boy beyond belief. Director Fury did not do hugs.
"But, as I was saying, I would have to have a few…ground rules, shall we call them, put in place."
"What sort of rules are we talking about?"
"Firstly, my identity is to remain a secret. Secondly, if any of the other Avengers are seriously opposed to my participation in a specific mission, they withhold the power to deem me unfit for duty. Thirdly, I will be allowed to have some time away from the tower. The council obviously can't recall what it was like to be an adolescent."
"They probably never were adolescents. They merely spawned as fully grown headaches and nightmares from the deepest pits of heck." Stark commented dryly.
Peter found this comparison quite fitting.
"Is that all?" Fury questioned. He had been expecting a much longer, more extensive list of demands.
"One more thing… I need a new suit. The lizard, well, decided to use the fabric, and my skin for that matter, as its kitty scratch tower."
Fury, who glanced towards his assistant, nodded in affirmation. These seemed rather reasonable.
"Now, Stark, are you going to sign the release slip, or do I need to threaten Barton with permanent suspension from active field duty?"
"Even though I apparently have 'no control' over his decision, I am not going to sign the form which could potentially lead to his death." Stark crossed his arms.
"Very well, Barton it is." Fury and Agent Hill stood from their conference chairs. Stark, however, remained irascible and unmoving. Hill motioned for Peter to follow the Director and herself. With a final, apologetic glance directed towards the philanthropist, Peter hassled after the pair as they disappeared from the doorframe.
…
That night, Clint ordered Pizza.
He had been a pushover. Heck, he liked the kid. What better way to exercise aptitude such as Peter's than to join the Avengers? (This is precisely why Clint Barton, at this time in his life, is perfectly unfit to father a child.) Despite Steve and Dr. Banner's initial doubts, the pair had eventually relented in a showdown of genetically-enhanced arachnid proportions. Quite frankly, Thor was much too busy with pop tarts to care, and Pepper had departed for a Stark Enterprises meeting during the fiasco, and had yet to learn of the incident. Natasha had been the real issue. The partners had been involved in a rather loud, Russian debacle, complete with flying knives and smashing vases. Natasha was pissed, and at the end of the monumental fight, sided with Tony, and went to sulk in the training arena. All other Avengers were strongly advised to leave her be, lest they were to develop a solid desire to become gruesomely decapitated.
And so, the remaining company (a powerfully shaken Peter, an enthusiastic Clint, a pastry-loving god, a super-soldier, and an incredible hulk) decided to order Pizza, consume far too many soft drinks, participate in an obnoxious belching contest, and stay awake until three in the morning watching pointless action flicks.
…
Jane Foster was curious. Rather curious indeed. She had been mapping an algorithm in the middle of New Mexico when her satellite phone had alerted the scientist that SHIELD was calling. An Agent Fuerst had informed her of a new position as liaison for the division, and Jane had pounced upon the well-paying opportunity.
Now, standing in the middle of Anthony Stark's private runway, Jane began to wonder Director Fury's real motives. From Thor and his companions, Jane had received an earful throughout the months concerning the one-eyed man, but, for the first time, the researcher actually began to ponder her acquaintance's words. Her thoughts, however, were broken by a high pitched squeal, a mass of dark brown hair, and a pale, bespeckled face. Ah…Darcy.
Jane's close friend and reliable work colleague, Darcy Lewis, had flung her herself towards the scientist.
"Oh my God Jane!" Darcy squealed.
Jane internally sighed.
"Hey Darcy… When did you get here?"
"Uh…about twenty minutes ago. Have you seen the car?" She put a large emphasis on the last bit.
"Umm…no, I've only just arrived." Jane responded, slightly bemused. Darcy grasped Jane's hand and quickly led the brunette across the tarmac and around a building. The vehicle in question made Jane stop in her tracks. It was obsidian, custom-armored Rolls Royce Phantom, complete with two SHIELD agents.
Well damn…
Jane Foster, for the first time in a very long period, was unequivocally flabbergasted.
"Miss Foster, Miss Lewis…" One of the SHIELD agents, donned in a neat black suit with aviator- style sunglasses, called to the pair. "Mr. Stark and his colleagues are requesting that we depart. You luggage will be taken in a separate vehicle."
The man's counterpart opened the car door.
The two associates shared a glance before stepping simultaneously in the direction of the Phantom, Jane adjusting the strap upon her leather messenger bag.
…
The outer appearance of Stark tower was magnificent, to say the least. The glass entirety caused the sun's beaming rays to glint across the city majestically, the solitary A marking the residents identities. As a designated escort led the pair through the intricate and rather modern foyer and into the solitude-ridden elevator, both of their minds were abuzz with opportunities and various prospects.
As the car slid to a halt, the duet exchanged glances, ran identical hands through their dark locks, and adjusted their bag's straps for a final time. The doors slithered ajar.
As Jane made for the exit, a large flash of blonde tresses and towering stature flashed before her eyes in an arresting cacophony. Thor.
"Lady Jane, it is a pleasure to find myself in your radiant presence once more." The Norse god bowed, taking her petite hand in his, and kissing it.
Jane turned red, while Darcy, the security guard, and a man behind the legend subdued sniggers.
"Ah…well, it's, umm… great to see you as well, Thor." Jane fumbled with her typically eloquent speech in her quite flustered state. Thor, however, seemed to accept this greeting whole-heartedly.
"Ah, Lady Darcy…It is a pleasure as well. How have you faired in our time apart?" Thor rambled deafeningly as he caught sight of the woman beside his love interest.
Darcy raised an eyebrow at the volume. "It's not been terrible Goldilocks, but Jane has been driving me up the wall with her inner monologue. Contact Thor, don't contact Thor…" Darcy remarked sarcastically, mimicking her colleague. Jane elbowed Darcy in the ribs, flushed once again. Thor grinned.
"If you're done up there Point Break, we would like to actually meet Miss Foster and her friend…" A man, whose voice Jane recognized in an instant, spoke up.
"Ah yes, Man of Iron, my deepest apologizes.
Although Jane had never met the Avengers, save Thor, in person, she had experienced the honor of interacting with the team through various video conference channels. Tony Stark, snarky attitude in tow, peeked around the large man.
"Miss Foster…" Stark acknowledged, nodding his head in her direction, hands stuck deeply into his jean pockets.
"Mr. Stark."
"Hello Miss Foster, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Jane recognized the obvious articulateness. Thor moved aside, revealing the rest of the team.
Steve Rodgers nodded and offered a genuine smile. She beamed in response.
A handful of minutes later, introductions had been concluded, and the mass group has disbanded to various quarters. Although it was only 9:45 am, the entire team seemed fully functional. Natasha Romanoff had been assigned by Stark (this obligation was met only with a withering glare) to escort the pair to their quarters.
Jane noticed immediately that Natasha was not a conversationalist, speaking only when unquestionably required. With her austere attitude and flaming locks, both associates could sense a cauldron boiling. Something had occurred previous to their arrival. Darcy was determined to find out, but Jane held her back with a pointed stare.
"I hope you won't mind, but you'll be sharing a floor. There are two master bedrooms, so I assume that you will both be comfortable until further accommodations can be provided." Natasha announced curtly. The trio stood before a silver door, a dark 81 emblazoned upon the frame.
Jane and Darcy were dumbfounded. They had been expecting to share a room. An entire floor…
"I assure you that Tony doesn't need to move us. This is rather gracious of him, already."
Natasha smirked.
I'll pass the message on, but there isn't much one can do once Stark has set his mind on something."
Natasha slid a key card into a slot, much like a hotel room, before withdrawing a pair of identical cards from her back pocket. She handed the scientists their respective cards before stepping back into the elevator and disappearing from view.
…
Dinner that night was a fiasco. Pepper and Natasha had partnered to prepare their legendary lasagna, and the kitchen was a mass commotion of clinking containers, running water, the buzz of enthusiastic chatter, and the occasional squeak of an oven door. Peter, who had become accustomed to the chaos, found himself guiding the newcomers through the pandemonium with a mask of hilarity plastered upon his face.
Twenty Five minutes later, the entire congregation was seated, Stark and Pepper at the respective heads. The culinary delight was served fresh with warmed garlic bread and various alcoholic beverages. Peter and Darcy opted for soda. There was no particular flow to the conversation, odd battle stories, heated discussions about Budapest, and the request for larger air ducts all circling in due time.
Peter, as he watched from the middle, Natasha and Jane on either side, felt an overwhelming sense of family and companionship. Peter had unearthed his niche, and for the solitary time in his life, felt as though he belonged.
That's a wrap ladies and gentlemen! I will be updating within the next few days. Don't forget to leave a review or send a PM to tell me how you feel about the fic, or to pass on a chapter suggestion.
Adios,
Enya Azari
