Author's Notes: Sorry I'm updating late this Monday, I was at a wedding all week instead of working on this :P Well, enjoy!
And yes, the description of Lucy is coming... I actually forgot to include one earlier, but I've got a great idea for it now and it didn't fit with this chapter.
In other news, anyone know the theme for the chapter titles yet? You get a whole batch of interweb cookies if you get it! ;)
The headlining story tonight is that Manhattan's resident superhero Iron Man, also known as multi-billionaire and forerunner for green energy, Tony Stark, has held a press conference announcing that he and, nostalgia collectors and historians may believe it or not, Captain America will be involving themselves in a more hands-on initiative to helping the NY metro area recoup from what some experts are calling the 'War of the Worlds'. This announcement was hailed with great enthusiasm and the duo is expected to be involved in individual projects; everything from rebuilding Park Avenue, to helping out the local fire departments, these—
Lucy turned off her tv, grabbed her coat and bag as she closed up her apartment for the night; on to job number two.
Jogging to the bus station, she pulled her coat on and tried to tuck some unruly locks of hair into the neon bandana the other bar she worked at required all the employees wear. The uniform was a sort of modern take on old western and looked very out of place on the Bay Ridge/Midtown Express but Lucy had gotten used to the stares and just ignored them now. Glancing at her watch, she swore under her breath for the busses running late and tapped her foot on the metal floor impatiently.
As though the traffic could feel her impatience, the buss flew through the all-consuming shadows that the fading day cast over the city. The night, however, was just beginning and as the bus pulled up to Lucy's stop, the streets were bursting with the kind of life only millions of 9-5er's pent up energy could create. Walking through the back entrance of a side street bar called the Buckin' Buffalo, she locked her bag in the back room with the rest of the server's stuff and mentally prepared herself for yet another night of drunken idiots, bad music and, hopefully, good tips. And who knows? Maybe tonight would be better than the past few days had been?
The nightlife settled into it's routine, because even the city that never sleeps eventually falls into a sort of chaotic routine, if you've been there long enough, and Lucy adjusted the plaid cowgirl shirt and jean mini skirt so that not too much of her figure would be suspect to the jowls and jeers of the patrons.
"Lucy! I need you at tables' 3 and 4, stat!"
And so, the night began. It started out smoothly enough, only the typical issues with customers, or at least it was smooth until one of the waitresses called Lucy over to the bar with a frantic gesture.
"Lucy, he's back again," the girl said.
"What? I thought I'd gotten rid of that- never mind, I'll take care of him, thanks for telling me," the girl gave Lucy an encouraging smile before flying off to deal with her own troubles. Glancing over at the greasy-looking young man at the end of the bar, Lucy signed and steeled herself. This was going to be a long night.
"Hey! There's my girrl!" the man said, cheap beer wafting off his breath and making Lucy's nose crinkle in disgust.
"I'm not 'your girl' Marcus, now what do you want?" she snapped at him. No mercy.
"Aww come on, don'nna be like that! I jusht stopped by to say hi, is all! Hey, why've you always gotta be like that, huh? Huh?" Marcus slurred out. He swayed slightly on his stool but managed to stay on.
He started absently petting her head, much to her displeasure.
"You always had the nicshist curls… all dark an, an… just beau'iful," he said as she knocked his hand away and took a half step back.
"You're drunk, Marcus, I won't talk to you like this, I told you that," she said. Keep it short, keep it simple; maybe he's not too drunk and he'll just go away?
"That'shhit, Lus, an' you know it!" no such luck. Marcus slammed his fist down on the bar, making Lucy and several other customers jump.
"Marcus please, just leave and I'll talk to you about this later, you're disturbing the- "
"That'shSHIT Lus! What? I comme here… outta the goodness of my heart to take you back an' thish ishow you treat me?" his voice had risen and was threatening to draw even more attention to the two, despite the crowd's already high volume. From the corner of her eye, Lucy could see her manager giver her a nasty look.
"You fucking drunkard, you're going to make me lose my job if you keep this up!" Lucy said, quietly, but desperately. The bartender dropped a glass of something behind the bar and used it as an excuse to leave for a mop, or something… the coward.
"FUCK YOU! You fucking bitch! I was gonna ferrgive yoush for ta' other day… an how you treated me at thhha tha housh…"
"That was my house and you were trespassing. You are not allowed near there and you know that! Now get out before I call the fucking cops!" Lucy said, still trying to keep her voice at a reasonable volume while Marcus's continued to rise. He pounded his fist on the bar again in frustration, his eyes on Lucy the whole time.
"FUCK YOU!" he yelled again and reached uneasily about the bar, as if looking for something to throw. He found a decorative candleholder and chucked it with force at Lucy. Luckily, his aim was very poor and even in her surprised state Lucy was able to duck out of the way. Unfortunately, the candle inside the holder had been lit, meant usually for decoration around the bar, and it caught fire to whatever had spilled behind the bar earlier.
"What did you just-?" a plume of smoke started coming from behind the bar now as one of the dishrags caught. Lucy's eyes went wide when she realized what had happened and she yelled 'fire!' as loud as she could. Though, her attempt at drawing help was not as effective as she had thought, and the packed bar went into panic as the manager tried, in vain, to reach the bar with an extinguisher and another server called 911.
However, Marcus was oblivious to what was wrong and decided to take advantage of Lucy's back being to him. He grabbed a hold of her hair and yanked her back into him. She grunted in pain but managed to get an elbow into the man's stomach, effectively getting him to let go of her.
Marcus was a big guy, though, and wouldn't take such as insult lying down, especially in his drunken state.
"You fuckin' BITCH!" he all but howled in anger. Lucy would have been afraid of him, if an explosion behind the bar hadn't taken her ex-boyfriend's place. The fire had managed to engulf some of the liquor bottles and the bar would soon be no more if it were not brought under control soon.
Everything after the bar exploding happened in a surreal blur. Marcus might have left, Lucy didn't know. Her ears were ringing and something sticky was running down her forehead, making her head hurt. She was on the floor, but her addled brain couldn't quite tell which way was up, let alone out, so she stayed half sitting where she was. Smoke and heat obscured her vision and she could barely make out voices, all yelling, and the cracks of the concrete walls and ceiling around her.
What was going on? Where there still people near? What had happened?
There was a muffled yell, closer to her than the others had been, then someone grabbed her. Blurred colors, fire red and orange, then something blue and white, someone was carrying her…
The cold air hit Lucy like a brick wall and she fell unconscious just as the medics were strapping her into the medical stretcher.
"I think that's the last of them, but I'm going back in to check!"
"The fire Marshall just gave the all-clear, we're bringing these people back now and the firemen should be able to handle it from here," the medic said with a tired smile. "Thanks for all your help, it's been an honor Captain."
Captain America saluted the man and picked up his shield as he followed them to the last ambulance that had been waiting for them. He watched as they loaded Lucy and another woman into the back, but then stopped the medic before they left. Quietly, privately, he asked the man to take special care of these passengers. The medic assured he would, and then left in a whirl of flashing lights and screaming sirens.
"So, did you find out if she was okay?" Dr. Banner asked when Steve had finished telling him how the night had panned out.
"Yeah, well, sort of… I asked the hospital staff when I was able to stop by an hour or two later, they said she was fine," Steve said.
"But you didn't go see her?" Bruce asked slowly, looking at Steve as if he was stupid.
"No… no I didn't."
"Well… why the hell not?" the doctor responded, with more force than Steve had expected.
"I- I was still in uniform, and it's not like she would have known who I was! And she was probably sleeping, and… "
"I don't believe it. You're making excuses," Bruce said. He smiled sarcastically and laughed, the sound sending a slight chill down Steve's spin. "You really are stupid when it comes to this stuff, aren't you?" he said with an almost cruel look in his eye. What was up with the Doctor?
"Geeze, not you too! Don't I get enough crap from Tony? It's not like- "
"No, no, you see what it's actually very much like is you… you would say 'dizzy with a dame'," Steve blushed up to his ears, "and you're trying so hard to deny that. She's a regular person; she's got her own life, outside of SHEILD or any of this… insane… business.
You know, you've got a great thing going for you, and what really gets me is that you don't even see it. You have a choice here! You can have something that is separate from all this," Bruce gestured largely to the window but Steve knew he wasn't referring to the city outside. Banner continued with a passionate sadness Steve had never heard in his voice before, "You have your own…specialties… but it's not like me or Tony or Thor or Natasha and Clint. You can still end a mission and return to the regular world, go somewhere no one knows your name and nobody's looking for you.
Just, do yourself a favor, and live that life for a while, will you? Just… think about it."
Bruce Banner left Steve with a slue of thoughts running through his head. He sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands, just trying to comprehend everything that had happened in the past 12 hours. Looking up for a moment, his eyes fell on his helmet and mask, still sitting where he'd left them on the table.
The blue was soot covered… seemed like he could never keep it clean when he wore it…