In which Fiona manages to make friends and lose them within the same 24 hours. Because she's never been known for her social skills.
Chapter Text
Natasha showed up in the morning- as threatened- right at 6 am. After relentlessly pounding on the door until she heard the "thud!" of something heavy shattering against it, the Russian heard her new friend shriek, "Go fuck yourself sideways! What the hell is wrong with you!"
Grinning unkindly, Natasha leaned against the door. "I'm not leaving until you come out. I've heard these doors are bulletproof..." she died off threateningly, examining her nails. "We could try that theory out."
Silence, then a sullen "Aiteann! Gimme five minutes."
When Fiona bitterly stomped out of the apartment, she was wearing a baggy t-shirt over lurid pink basketball shorts, her uncontrollable mane of hair twisted up into a topknot bristling with hairpins. Pursing her pink mouth, she looked Natasha over. She had a workout catsuit. Of course. The Russian looked smooth and perfectly put together, while she, Fiona, looked like a homeless pup raised by wolves.
"Good morning!" Natasha chirped adorably.
Fiona merely growled, but the Russian paused for a moment. Did that- did the floor rumble for a second there? She glanced sharply at Fiona, but the girl was busy yawning and scratching. Wryly, she thought, 'Maybe I'm the one hungover today…'
"Now, look it's really easy-" Natasha was attempting to teach her irritable Irish protege some self-defense moves, but the girl was wheezing after thirty minutes of brisk education. Standing over her with hands on cat-suited hips, the Russian shook her head. "I can see we'll have to build up your stamina, дорогая."
Opening one vivid blue eye, Fiona narrowed it threateningly. "I'm a musician, Nat, not a triathlete. I've got no interest."
Gracefully seating herself next to the panting girl, The Widow shook her head. "Are you even the slightest bit embarrassed that we ran you to ground in less than five minutes? For god's sake girl, have some dignity!"
"Isn't it time for breakfast?" Fi whined, weakly trying to kick at the laughing Natasha.
It had actually been the Russian's intent to take Fiona to breakfast early, hopefully avoiding most of the building's inhabitants and giving the girl some breathing room. So, naturally luck was not on her side and nearly everyone categorized as an Avenger was crowded into the huge kitchen. And, of course, every head turned to stare as they came through the door. Neatly looping her arm through that of Fiona, who gave every evidence of intending to retreat, Natasha sighed. "What's everyone doing up so early? Even you, Tony? I thought we had to set your mattress on fire to get you up before noon."
Absently drinking his coffee as his gaze stayed fixed on the nervous Irish girl, Stark shrugged. "We've got a team meeting in an hour. Give Banshee here a chance to meet-"
"Do. Not. Call ME THAT!"
Fiona's voice was rising and suddenly, the coffee cup just set down by Tony fell off the table, shattering on the floor. Natasha knew he'd not even been in the room a second before, but suddenly Loki was behind the furious girl, one big hand enclosed around the back of her neck.
"Easy Kjæledyr, retract those claws. This is not an auspicious moment to display your talents." His darkly stern whisper brought Fiona into sudden focus, and she licked her lips, taking a deep breath. "There's a good girl..." His purr so close to her head made her whimper internally. Loki chuckled, then suddenly removed his hand and stepped briskly to the buffet table. "Ah, the 'bacon' Thor so enjoys. A gift from the gods that any is left." Of course, he took it all and strolled away to seat himself elegantly by the window.
"I was looking at that," the girl said sadly, watching her favorite breakfast item disappear down the Prince's elegant throat.
Forcing a laugh, Natasha looked sternly around the room, and suddenly everyone found something else to look at, chatter beginning again. "I'll order more, it only takes a minute." Leading Fiona to the long buffet table, she gestured invitingly. "What else would you like?"
This was a mistake. The girl's eyes were wide, darting between bangers and mash, a pile of French toast dripping with syrup, three different kinds of omelets crowded between baskets of rolls, toast, croissants, biscuits, a huge platter filled with a luscious array of fruit including several she'd never seen before and numerous carafes of juice and coffee. "I don't..." Tucking a strand of hair escaped from her topknot behind her ear, Fiona shook her head. It was embarrassing enough to have everyone watch her, but there were too many choices and she shifted anxiously. "There's too much- it's... Maybe just coffee?"
Forcing a light tone, Natasha shrugged. "I'm going to grab a little of everything and you can snack off my plate if you want. Oh, look! And here's the bacon!"
Eating slowly, Fiona tried to keep the food down as her stomach began twisting with anxiety, attempting to keep up with the Widow's casual commentary. To make matters worse, she could feel the malevolent chill of Loki brushing against the back of her neck where he'd seized her to stop the escalation from more than a broken coffee mug.
"-you can see where it seems strange"
Startled, she looked up into Natasha's expectant face. "I'm sorry, what?"
Leaning closer, the Russian eyed her speculatively, "Loki. How he suddenly appeared like that. How he calmed you down. You said you don't have any history?"
Stuffing the last piece of bacon- whole- into her mouth, Fiona stared at her as she crunched thoughtfully. "Of course not," she finally answered thickly, taking a swallow of juice to clear her suddenly dry throat. "you may remember that I met him in the most delightful social setting on a rooftop cornered by the rest of you in the A-Team, then promptly knocked out by his Asgardian mojo. I dunno why he's bossing me about but it's getting on my last nerve."
"The Avengers, Lady Fiona, not the- what did you call them? The A-Team?" corrected Thor, making his presence known as his bulk cast the entire table into shadow. Craning her neck to look up his gigantic chest and at his pleasant face, she pursed her lips.
"Pardon you?"
Thor chuckled, apparently unruffled by her sass. "Thor Odinson of Asgard, Lady. A pleasure to meet you."
"She's no lady," came a dry voice over his enormous shoulder. He turned to find the only other man in the room as tall as he was- likely the only man in the downtown metropolitan area of Manhattan as tall as he was- Loki, arms folded in his beautifully tailored black suit, and green gaze examining a bristling Fiona.
"Brother!"
Loki sighed as he was engulfed in tree-trunk sized arms, determinedly forcing his brother's affections on him. "Yes, brother, always a pleasure. Could you release me? You are embedding your very cellular structure into my suit, and it was tailored for me just yesterday."
Thor's laughter boomed through the room, refusing to be offended by his sibling's disgust.
"Oh, good, Point Break's here!" Stark's irritatingly cheerful face somehow wedged between the brothers. "That means we can get started."
"Why am I part of this?" Fiona hissed as she was not-quite hustled down the hallway and into another huge meeting room. She heard the hateful, harsh chuckle before she spotted Fury, sitting at the head of the table and sneering at her as if this was yet another board meeting and she was there to take notes and serve coffee.
"Because you're the guest of honor."
Fiona stood very still, feeling the chill spread over her like a bucket of ice water thrown in her face- which had happened more than once in the Kahn's cellar- 'Stop,' she lectured herself, 'no going back. You canna afford to get distracted now.'
Clearing his throat impatiently when the Irish girl gave no response, Fury leaned forward again, fixing her with a single, baleful eye. "Miss McLoughlin? Are you paying any attention here?"
"Aye, ya filthy-" Fiona stopped and gritted her teeth. Her accent turned thick when she was particularly enraged, and she couldn't afford a "tell" with these bastards. Fuck 'em all- they were putting in earplugs, even Natasha. Only the suddenly stern Loki and that big-ass golden retriever of a brother kept their arms folded, still looking at her.
"Goodness gracious," she simpered, "all that protective equipment because of lil' ol' me?" Fiona waved her hands daintily, "I feel so flattered, the mighty Bingers scared of-"
"The Avengers, Lady Fiona," Thor interrupted earnestly, "they are called the Avengers."
Continuing as if the suddenly anxious Asgardian hadn't spoken, the girl fluttered her eyes at the uneasy combination of Steve Rogers and his black-hearted boyfriend- what did they call him? Buckwheat or something? "I mean, really, what girl couldn't be flattered by so many of the Agitators in one room?"
"Lady, the Aveng-"
Loki interrupted tiredly, "Brother, she is baiting you."
Sashaying delicately closer to Fury, hands on hips, Fiona smiled sweetly at the glowering director. "Good morning, Director Farty, stopping by for another round of pistol-whipping? How about we make it fair this time and you give me a gun, too?"
Fury finally spoke, his voice louder, not being able to hear his own voice, muffled by the heavy earplugs. "You've had a good night's sleep-" he sniffed contemptuously, "and a shower, I see. So it's time to discuss your particular skills." He waited, but the girl simply raised a brow, waiting for him to continue. "Instead of influencing rich businessmen to invest in bogus developments or spill their dirty little secrets for blackmail, you have the opportunity, Miss McLoughlin, to utilize your skills for protecting people, instead of stealing from them."
"Well, of course, Director Fang, of course, I was influencing victims for my own, selfish means." Fiona could feel the rage sweep over her again, and she didn't try to fight it down this time. It felt so good, so freeing to not hold back. Behind her, Loki was moving subtly to the left, but she was wise to his methods now, and casually stepped on to a leather chair and then the expensive walnut table. "What do you need to know? What can I share that could help you?"
Fury could read lips, she noticed, as he snorted. "Exactly how far does this Voice of yours carry? Can it kill? What can it do aside from persuasion and mind control?"
Fiona elaborately tilted her head, tapping one finger thoughtfully to her lips as she angled on the other side of the endless table, forcing Loki to move in the opposite direction. The rest of the group simply stood still, eyeing her warily as they followed her movements. The way Natasha's head tilted told her they were getting a translation of the conversation between her and Fury.
"Oh, it's getting to know you time, is it?" She smiled sweetly and began to sing.
"As a teacher I've been learning
You'll forgive me if I boast
And I've now become an expert
On the subject I like most
Getting to know you
Getting to know you
Getting to know all about you…"
The earplugs weren't as useful as they'd expected, she watched with a grim sort of pleasure as they began swaying- just slightly- as she tap-danced nimbly down the table, scarring the mirror finish with her scuffed boots.
"Getting to like you
Getting to hope you like me…"
Fiona leaned closer to where a paralyzed Steve and Bucky were rooted to the spot, before raising her arms invitingly. The dazed men turned to each other, wrapping arms to pull each other closer, dipping into a lovely waltz. The girl continued singing, tip-tapping her way up and down the table, back and forth on the walnut barrier between her and Loki. She knew perfectly well the infuriating creature could sweep her off the table by raising a finger or two, so he was simply drawing the game out before someone else stepped in. Based on the confused, labrador retriever expression on the big blond's face, it wouldn't be him. Her lovely voice rose, seeming to swirl in a graceful arc that drove the two men entwined to follow it, holding each other closely, each gaze fixed on the other.
"Getting to know you
Doing it my way
But nicely
You are precisely
My cup of tea…"
Fiona's sweet tone drew out, watching Bucky dip a helpless Steve as their lips pressed together.
Her mocking homage to "The King and I" cut off abruptly as Thor's giant mitt slapped over her mouth, effectively muzzling the girl, even as she squirmed and bit against his grip.
"Lady-" grunting as her sharp little teeth latched on to his thumb, Thor tried again, "-you must stop, this is wrong-" Thor looked uncomfortably as the two refugees from the 1940s held each other, lips caressing, tongues sliding against strong jaws and stubbled cheeks.
"STOP!"
This warning echoed painfully inside Fiona's head, the volume rattling and circling her brainpan like a stray bullet.
"Holy Mother of God-" the redhead gasped as she dropped to her knees, hands pressed desperately against her ears as if that would lower the volume of the command.
The Soldier and Steve broke apart, both panting and backing away from each other in shock. The blond collected himself first, cautiously holding out a hand. "It's nothing, Bucky, just a stupid joke. C'mon, let's just-"
Fiona was suddenly silent, one feral pup sensing another. Bucky stood where he was, hands clenching and releasing and the whole room so quiet everyone could hear the gentle 'whirring' sound of his metal fingers tightening. His greyish-blue eyes had turned black, Fiona noticed uncomfortably, as they turned toward her. She could feel the rage pour from him, almost a visceral flood of fury meant to drown her.
"What else should I write
I don't have the right..."
Fiona's voice shook just slightly as she felt his horror and pain- the Soldier's humiliation.
"What else should I be All apologies..."
He stopped then looking from her to the worried face of Steve, and then the door, turning swiftly to leave.
It was the gentle Bruce that turned to her, furious. "Why did you do that, Fiona? He's not your enemy, neither one of them are! Why would you humiliate them like that?"
"What?" The girl shook her head, "They're obviously together, I was just-"
Banner drew in a long breath, holding it for a moment as he rubbed his forehead. "I have to leave before I get any angrier," he mumbled, turning and moving to the door, just behind Rogers.
"They're not together," Natasha said crisply, "they care about each other deeply but even if they were willing to admit they're in love, they're from nearly 70 years ago. Loving a man is the most unthinkable thing they could do, at least in their era. And they're not ready to leave it." She turned on one heel and left the room as well.
The four remaining men continued to examine Fiona as if she was a bug- Stark looking actually thoughtful, assessing for once. Fury with a cruel glint in his remaining eye. And... Loki. She turned to look at him, and he was expressionless.
"Come, little Monster," Loki finally said, "I will take you to your room." Suddenly tired, Fiona didn't even fight him when he took her arm and began to lead her from the chilly atmosphere.
"I did not say that girl was going anywhere, Mr. Friggasson." Fury's voice was ice, swirling with red tones of hate and an unidentified feel- fear? Did she manage to scare this one-eyed motherfucker? Fiona wisely kept silent and kept walking as Loki pulled her to the door. He gave a dry chuckle, turned to where the furious director of S.H.I.E.L.D. glowered.
"Your hearing protection failed, my Cyclopean colleague. I would suggest reconvening another day." Fiona was still shaky, but she couldn't help the spiteful surge of satisfaction she felt at his growl of rage as Stark and Thor attempted to calm the infuriated director.
The door had barely closed behind them when the God's long arms closed around her like bands of steel and Fiona shuddered as he growled against the back of her head.
"You have been exceptionally naughty, little girl. I fear there will correction. Harsh correction for your ill-favored behavior." Loki chuckled as a sudden yank from an invisible hand threw the girl into a vortex, sending her spinning helplessly.
"I have such plans for your punishment."
"Getting To Know You," The King and I
"All Apologies," Nirvana
"Kjæledyr" Pet
"дорогая" My dear