From their remote base in the Colorado Rockies, the THUNDERBOLTS fight to protect a world that they once made to hate and fear them! Led by the former Avenger HAWKEYE and now joined by the mutant acitivst ARCHANGEL, these outlaws have slowly earned credibility among some of their superhero peers...but not all of them, as you'll see in...
NEXT BEST THING
The fanfic recommended by one out of five dentists for healthier gums!
by Jim Smith
Chapter 4! "Warren Does Something"
[Hawkeye/Moonstone foreplay made possible by #spam!, the IRC channel that tolerates--nay, encourages--careful planning of hot monkey love scenes. And extra special thanks to Brucha Meyers and her "healthy knowledge of anatomy." Er, you know what I mean...]
***
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel Comics, and no profit is being made from this unauthorized usage of them. Copyright of me, baby. Feedback encouraged, and paid for on occasion.
This story will be archived on the Thunderbolts Fan Fiction Archive , but if you want it too, just email me at .
Continuity: This story diverges from Thunderbolts canon after THUNDERBOLTS #29. It diverges from X-Men canon somewhere after UNCANNY X-MEN #368, but "X-Men canon" is a joke and nobody seems to care about that.
***
Warren Worthington was about one hundred thirty feet in air just outside of Burton Canyon, Colorado, trying to outpace his most arduous opponent in some time: A big disk.
He was up there because of an x-factor in his genes that made him a mutant--specifically, a flying mutant who called himself Archangel and tried to use his powers for good. The disk--well, he hadn't quite figured out why _it_ was up there, but he was more concerned with avoiding whatever else it could do. All he was sure of was that it usually served as the shield of the USAgent, another man trying to help the public with a flashy name and an attention-getting costume.
Archangel couldn't remember ever having met USAgent before--he vaguely recalled that the man in the black cowl had once overzealously substituted for Captain America, and was generally regarded as a hardass. These days the Agent was leading the Jury, a team of vigilantes hired by Cordco Industries to protect the corporation from the criminal element in Burton Canyon. As such, this wasn't Archangel's fight--or it hadn't been until he started hanging out with the wrong crowd.
He'd come to Colorado tracking down an mysterious bit of business concerning his own corporation, Worthington Industries. That was how he met the Thunderbolts--a band of fugitives trying to prove themselves as superheroes to the world--and found himself teaming up with them to save San Francisco from the menace of a supervillain named Graviton. Just as he had begun to trust these criminals, a freak accident caused some of the Thunderbolts' equipment to explode. The sophisticated apparatus Songbird used to transform her voice into force fields was irreparably damaged, and Hawkeye was lucky to be alive after his trademark arrows blew up inside the quiver strapped to his back. With one member sidelined and their leader bedridden, the team found itself asking Archangel to help fill the void.*
[* Just in case you missed the first three parts of the story...]
And here he was, making sure Cordco's goons still had plenty of targets.
"Pretty fancy flying, for a hubcap," Archangel mused aloud. "Too bad I'm a bona fide graduate of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, where I double-majored in 'Fighting Evil Mutants' and 'Outflying Stupid Contraptions Like You!'" There was something about making idle banter--even to a flying shield--that kept Warren's blood pumping a battle; something else he picked up in the school that once secretly trained the X-Men. As he spoke entirely too much to his mechanical audience, he swooped down and found the Thunderbolts still engaging the Jury...and USAgent leaving himself wide open to an aerial assault.
"Gotta hand it to you, Agent!" he shouted. "Your shield keeps up with me, even on the sharpest turns! Only difference is, I've got enough brains to pull up out of a head-on collision!" He wouldn't have explained his strategy, but he'd been feeling out USAgent's shield long enough to know that his taunts wouldn't give his opponent time to react. As planned, Archangel got within an eyelash of Agent's face before swooping off, and the former Avenger and his weapon were reunited with an audible "whump."
Archangel grinned from ear to ear as he flew up to Moonstone. "That should even up the odds, Leader Lady!" he beamed. "Anything else I can do...?"
Moonstone grimaced. It was hard enough coordinating an offensive without trying to avoid Wysper's sonic attacks. "Just _shut up_, Archangel, and let me _think_! Charcoal, get Firearm off of Jolt's back! Jolt, with the Agent down, the Jury takes orders from Sentry! Show him what you did to that cyborg last week!" She finally found an opening, and fired one of her laser blasts at the hover-disks keep Wysper aloft. With that headache alleviated, she turned to her new teammate. "And Eager Beaver here will run some interference on the rest!"
After giving Moonstone a nasty look, Archangel dived after Ramshot and Bomblast, dancing through the air and distracting their firepower from Atlas. "Not too shabby, Moonstone," the giant Thunderbolt told his field leader. "But what do you want me to do while they do all the fightin'?"
"Follow me. Did they teach you how to hot-wire cars in the Maggia?"
Jolt didn't like Moonstone very much, but she was used to taking her orders. Like the other members of the Jury, Sentry was covered from head to toe in heavy battle armor, and it wouldn't take much of the young girl's bioelectricity to damage his power source. Catching him off-guard would take a little effort, but she had the time. Firearm's flaming gauntlets had been rendered moot now that he was tangling with Charcoal, who could ignite his entire carboniferous body with no discomfort. USAgent was still reeling. Wysper seemed to be totally focused on Moonstone, to the point of following--and losing--her on foot instead of working with her teammates. Each member of the Jury were very single-minded, acquiring a single target and pursuing it regardless of how the rest of the team was doing. As Jolt buzzed around Sentry, keeping him off-balance, she wondered if Archangel wasn't much different...
Her train of thought came to a halt when she and everyone else in the battle heard the roar of engines overhead. Atlas was in the Thunderbolts' new transport ship, the Champscraft*, racing away from the scene.
[* "Borrowed" from the now-defunct Champions in THUNDERBOLTS #27]
"What the--!" Charcoal gasped. "Where the heck is _he_ going?"
Sentry began to regain the advantage against a confused Jolt. "Stay on the others, Jury! We'll track Atlas down later! That's how the Agent would play it..."
"Not this time, Sentry." Rubbing his aching forehead, USAgent put his hand on Sentry's shoulder and turned the man's attention to something else in the sky.
"Ta, ta, Thunderbolts!" Moonstone said as she waved to Archangel, Charcoal, and Jolt from the wheel of another vehicle. "I can't say it hasn't been fun, but Atlas and I haven't made it this far without knowing when to cut our losses!"
"The Justifier!" Wysper was limping through the air on one out of two hover-disks. "That witch just ripped off our transport to cover their escape!"
As the Jury regrouped, Archangel broke away from Ramshot and Bomblast to curse at the rapidly disappearing Moonstone. "Of all the no-good, low-down, dirty--I should have known all along!"
"We've got these three outnumbered, sir!" Sentry protested. "Ramshot and Firearm could go after the other two, while we mop up--"
USAgent sneered. "Brush up on your research, Sentry," he snapped. "Atlas and Moonstone are the only two of this bunch that worked for Zemo...these are just accomplices. Besides, the three million Cord pays you for them won't cover the costs of a stolen Justifier. Now let's go!" And so, with Wysper and USAgent in tow, the Jury complied, forced into their decision by their association with Edwin Cord and his personal agenda.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit!" Archangel shouted as the Jury departed. "What was I _thinking_, trusting those hoodlums! I suppose you two kids are gonna ditch me too, now that your team has fallen apart at the seams..."
"_I_ sure wasn't planning on it," Charcoal replied defensively. "But he's got a point, Jolt. What're we gonna do _now_?"
Jolt beamed with confidence, however. "Chill out, you guys. You two haven't been in the T-bolts near as long as me, and that's why you don't know--maybe Moonstone could pull a stunt like that, but Atlas..." Before she could explain any further, the Champscraft rumbled back at a lower altitude, as Atlas maneuvered the ship down to pick up his teammates. Archangel's jaw dropped.
"That went better'n I expected, that's for sure," the big man said as the Thunderbolts piled into the craft. "Moonstone's gonna pull some stunts on 'em for a while to cover our escape, and put the Justifier on autopilot while she bails out to meet us." He glanced to the stunned ex-X-Man. "Did we fool ya there, Wings?"
Archangel said nothing as his gaping mouth began to curl into a grin...
***
"Not too bad...not too bad at all!" Hawkeye commended as he struggled to his feet. "But you're sure nobody saw you and Atlas take a powder? The press will tear us two apart if they see that..."
Moonstone shrugged as she answered. "It was a calculated risk, Hawkeye. We were a few miles out of town when the Jury ambushed us, so I doubt anyone who saw us really understood what we were doing. I've got a couple of ideas for some high-profile outings--we could use them to demonstrate the Thunderbolts are still a rock-solid unit...you know, you _really_ should be lying down..."
Hawkeye smirked. "You wish. I can't just stay cooped up in that bed lettin' my back heal up while you guys are running around. The Jury ambushed you like those 'Qonkystardorz' guys, huh? You guys do okay without me, but there just ain't no one to replace me when it comes to sniffin' out sneak attacks..."
"Don't let it get to your head, Avenger. Archangel has just as much experience as you do from his time in the X-Men, the Champions, the Defenders, X-Factor..."
"X-Whatsit?"
"Never mind." Moonstone propped the wounded archer against her own lithe frame, clutching his side a little more tightly than someone with her strength needed to. "I'm _telling_ you, your back isn't up to this strain yet. Though maybe we should get you into the gym for rehabilitation...your gut's a little softer than I would have expected..."
"Oh, knock it off," Hawkeye shot back as she eased him onto the bed. "How'd you like to have a whole quiver fulla explosive arrows detonate all at once right behind you?" he asked, settling himself onto his stomach. "I can't see you layin' around topless for two weeks while some gizmo puts goo on your back..."
"Maybe you're not trying hard enough...?"
Hawkeye might have jumped right up to his feet if not for his injuries. Even so, Moonstone's joke made him turn his head so fast that it almost did a complete 360. As he looked at the sly grin on her face, he calmed his look of shock and reminded himself she'd just been kidding--nothing to be alarmed about. "Maybe you're enjoyin' it too much," he finally answered, trying to fall back into their routine banter.
"I see," she chuckled. "So I suppose you don't want me to take over for 'the gizmo' and apply your ointment today?"
"Um...I didn't say you couldn't..."
***
While Moonstone debriefed Hawkeye, the other Thunderbolts occupied themselves in the commons of their headquarters. The entire base had yet to be explored--not by the Thunderbolts, the Masters of Evil they took it from, or even August Masters*--but for all its spacious living quarters and numerous recreational facilities, the team often found itself in this one gathering room.
[* A fanatic who used the complex back in DEFENDERS #106]
Atlas was about to head back into Burton Canyon--this time as Erik Josten. He'd spent a lot of time at a sports bar since the Thunderbolts settled in this part of Colorado; the others didn't know he was trying to decide what to do about a former enemy who was working there as a bartender. Charcoal and Jolt were doing homework. More specifically, Jolt was finding yet another opportunity to complain about school, and Charcoal was trying to defend it without bringing himself to argue with her. Songbird was curled up in a chair, her impatient channel surfing hiding more subtle problems.
If Archangel had been with the Thunderbolts for more than a week, he might have noticed all the dilemmas going on in this one room. As it was, though, he only had one concern on his mind as he walked into the commons. "So I was moving some of my aerobatics gear into the gym," he announced, holding up a familiar gold apparatus, "when I found _this_ lying around!"
Songbird looked away from the television. "M-my sonic carapace? But who left it in the gym?"
"Beats me," the mutant shrugged. "But what interested me was the fact that all the doodads that blew back in San Francisco are fixed! I didn't think any of you knew how to repair this thing--"
Atlas walked up and looked over the carapace. "None of us do, Wings," he explained. "Techno built it for Melissa to use when we started the T-bolts. Since he's been gone, though, none of us coulda fixed it this good."
"You think it could be the same thing that patched up your costume, Atlas?" Archangel suggested. "Huh. I was just kidding around when I blamed it on 'magic elves,' but this is a real sophisticated device." He handed it to Songbird. "Only way to see if it works, though..."
"I don't get it," Songbird wondered as she put the carapace over her head and rested the device over her shoulders. "The Avengers told Hawkeye that a chain reaction made the vibranium in his arrows and my carapace explode! I know something in our headquarters has been fixing our stuff, but--" She stopped in mid-thought to concentrate on a few chords, and as before the carapace responded by transmuting her voice into a pink force field. "It works perfectly! But that's impossible unless--unless--"
Jolt nodded. "I see what you mean, Melissa. Even 'elves' would need to replace the vibranium in your carapace to make it work. And after that crisis Hawkeye told us about**, the nearest supply would be in Wakanda!
[** In CAPTAIN AMERICA #20-22, or you can get the Reader's Digest version in Part 2 of this li'l ol' fanfic...]
"Who's to say elves can't just make their own vibranium?" Charcoal pointed out. It was a suggestion with serious implications, and it brought a silence among the Thunderbolts. "What? I'm _just saying_, how do we know what it can't do? Whatever it is..."
Archangel scratched his head. "Something to bring up with Hawkeye, I guess. Anyway, at least Songbird flies again, right?"
Songbird said nothing as she examined the carapace.
"What happened to the rest of Melissa's gear, Warren?" Jolt pointed out. "There's a belt and a couple of arm-mounted components that she uses to make the wings..."
Songbird had no comment.
"Oh, right! I think I saw those in the gym, but I was so surprised I just grabbed the carapace and forgot about them." He spread his large, feathered wings and prepared to fly back to retrieve the accessories. "Hang on a second, Melissa--I'll have you back in the air in no time--"
"NO!"
The Thunderbolts turned to see Songbird racing out of the commons and into the nearest corridor to the living quarters. "Just--stay away from me!" she cried. "Leave me alone!"
Archangel found his jaw dropping for the second time that day. "...The _hell_?" he exclaimed. "Someone want to explain that to me?"
"She's...she's just like that, Wings." Atlas lowered his head a bit, troubled to see one of his closer friends run off in such pain. "Sometimes she just flips out and has to get away from everything. Usually I kinda know why, but...well...she'll be okay."
"She'll be okay? Shouldn't somebody talk to her or something?"
"What for?" Charcoal questioned. "She _said_ to leave her alone."
"Charlie's right," Jolt agreed. "She only went to her room. She'll be fine...she just needs some time..."
Warren Worthington watched his new teammates uncomfortably resume what they were doing before he walked in. It wasn't that they didn't care about Melissa...they were just too inexperience at caring to do anything about it. How much could he expect from an orphaned girl, a runaway boy, and a former mercenary? But then, these weren't the only Thunderbolts to go to...
***
Up to this point, Hawkeye had been receiving medical treatment for his injuries from the miraculously sophisticated technology of the Thunderbolts headquarters. Like something out of Doctor Doom's imagination, robotic modules would change his bandages and apply a seemingly panacean gel to his wounds. Right now, though, a module was sitting idly by his bed, while Moonstone scooped the balm from its open receptacle. "So," she purred, gently spreading it onto his back, "is my bedside manner better than our headquarters' automated medical equipment?"
"Your hands are less chilly than that contraption, let me tell you," Hawkeye mumbled contentedly. There was something about her that put him at ease, never questioning her motives or decisions as he let himself enjoy her pampering. "Say, Moony...if you don't mind me askin'...I can't remember if I ever caught your full name. Karla...something...?"
"Sofen," she finished. "I don't mind--it's never been a secret, except when I was trying to defraud someone. But those days are over. 'Moonstone' is fine, though."
"Huh. I guess I think of myself as 'Hawkeye,' too. I had been kinda wonderin' if I should tell the rest of you my real name. It sounds like something I oughta do, but it really ain't all that important, really. The Avengers all call me 'Hawkeye,' and they've known me for years."
"Even your wife?"
"No," came the sudden answer. "How did _you_ know I was married?"
"Was it a secret? I just remember picking it up through the grapevine somewhere. You and Mockingbird, right?" Moonstone found herself growing uneasy. "'Was married,'" she repeated. "Not anymore?"
"She...died. Just before the Avengers closed shop on the West Coast."
It bothered Moonstone. Not so much that Hawkeye's wife was dead, or that he still clearly wasn't over it, or that she'd touched a raw nerve by bringing it up. What bothered her most was that she'd made such a sloppy segue from his secret identity to what _she_ wanted to talk about, namely his marital status. Had Hawkeye been more alert, or more justifiably paranoid of her, he might have picked up on her blatant attempt to manipulate him into a romantic affair. Granted, she was undeniably attracted to the man, but that shouldn't have made her behave so impulsively. "I'm sorry," she told him, mostly to give herself time to find a way out of the subject. "That must've been while I was in prison...I hadn't considered why she hasn't been active lately."
Hawkeye too felt awkward at that moment. He'd been developing this rapport with Moonstone for weeks--she'd make a joking sexual advance, and he'd just as humorously reject it. And that was all it was, wasn't it? Regardless, Bobbi Morse Barton had been dead for some time, and he had coped with it enough that he felt confident in deciding that he would rather enjoy a beautifiul woman's flirtations than mope about being a widower. He shrugged his shoulders and quickly searched for a way to segue back into their customary dialogue. "Ahh, it's no big deal. You deserve to know if you're makin' hanky-panky with a married man..."
She smiled, and slowly used her powers of flight to lift her body silently and gently over his, until she was undeniably straddling the small of his back. Once it become obvious to even Hawkeye where she had moved, she replied confidently. "It wasn't the hanky-panky I was worried about--"
Suddenly Archangel burst through the door to Hawkeye's quarters. "Hate to interrupt, folks," he began, "but I think you two are qualified to deal with this situ--what's going on?"
Hakweye was rolling over and sitting up so fast that he aggravated his back--and sent Moonstone flying over the side of his bed before she had a chance to use her powers to stop him. The subdued sound of her supple posterior hitting the smooth metal floor made him jerk around yet again, only to stop halfway due to considerable pain. "Guhhh!" he groaned under his breath. "What _is_ it, Archang--uh, what's up?"
"It's Songbird," Warren Worthington explained, after a slight and bewildered pause. "I was telling her that her carapace has been repaired somehow, and she threw a fit and ran off to her room."
"That's to be--" Moonstone sat up from behind the bed, ran a hand through her hair to compose herself, and reiterated. "That's to be expected. Songbird's been like that for a long time. It hasn't affected her performance as a Thunderbolt yet."
The mutant shot her a look. "Am I the only one whose _not_ concerned with her performance as a Thunderbolt? She's riled up about _something_, and--"
"She's _always_ riled up, Warren," Hawkeye interrupted. "That's just her being herself. She'll work it out on her own, and she'll be fine. If she ran off to start an incident, I'd be worried, but..."
"Oh, and _then_ it matters, Hawkeye? The Thunderbolts only matter until they create a PR disaster you can't spin-doctor your way out of? I thought the X-Men had problems sometimes, but there's a lot you can learn from them, let me tell you!"
As he began to storm off, he turned and snapped, "For starters, they don't try to hide personal relationships as if they were Nixon tapes! I don't disapprove, and I wouldn't have even suspected if you hadn't jumped up like I was your father! It wouldn't kill you to trust the rest of the team once in a while..." And with that, he was gone.
"What...what the hell was _that_?" Hawkeye stormed. "Where does that blue-blooded Tweety Bird get off tellin' _me_ how to handle this team? And what makes him think there's anything goin' on with you and me? I should--"
Moonstone pulled herself back onto the bed next to Hawkeye. "Oh, come on--we both obviously had more on our mind than an innocent massage, or we wouldn't have been so startled when he walked in."
"Do _what_?" Hawkeye glared at her. "That tears it, Moonstone--it's put-up-or-shut-up time. All this flirtin' around between you and me was fun for a while, but I want to know what the score is with you, and I want it right now."
She just threw her head back and laughed. "You may be as dense as a brick, but you're the sexiest brick I've ever seen." Taking care to go easy on his back, she grabbed the archer and kissed him passionately, rolling him onto her so her weight wouldn't be on top of his wounds.
If this didn't answer his question, she thought, at least she'd have some fun finding a more obvious way to do it...
***
NEXT: Welllllll, well it's the big show...and it's really, really big...
NEXT BEST THING
The fanfic recommended by one out of five dentists for healthier gums!
by Jim Smith
Chapter 4! "Warren Does Something"
[Hawkeye/Moonstone foreplay made possible by #spam!, the IRC channel that tolerates--nay, encourages--careful planning of hot monkey love scenes. And extra special thanks to Brucha Meyers and her "healthy knowledge of anatomy." Er, you know what I mean...]
***
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel Comics, and no profit is being made from this unauthorized usage of them. Copyright of me, baby. Feedback encouraged, and paid for on occasion.
This story will be archived on the Thunderbolts Fan Fiction Archive , but if you want it too, just email me at .
Continuity: This story diverges from Thunderbolts canon after THUNDERBOLTS #29. It diverges from X-Men canon somewhere after UNCANNY X-MEN #368, but "X-Men canon" is a joke and nobody seems to care about that.
***
Warren Worthington was about one hundred thirty feet in air just outside of Burton Canyon, Colorado, trying to outpace his most arduous opponent in some time: A big disk.
He was up there because of an x-factor in his genes that made him a mutant--specifically, a flying mutant who called himself Archangel and tried to use his powers for good. The disk--well, he hadn't quite figured out why _it_ was up there, but he was more concerned with avoiding whatever else it could do. All he was sure of was that it usually served as the shield of the USAgent, another man trying to help the public with a flashy name and an attention-getting costume.
Archangel couldn't remember ever having met USAgent before--he vaguely recalled that the man in the black cowl had once overzealously substituted for Captain America, and was generally regarded as a hardass. These days the Agent was leading the Jury, a team of vigilantes hired by Cordco Industries to protect the corporation from the criminal element in Burton Canyon. As such, this wasn't Archangel's fight--or it hadn't been until he started hanging out with the wrong crowd.
He'd come to Colorado tracking down an mysterious bit of business concerning his own corporation, Worthington Industries. That was how he met the Thunderbolts--a band of fugitives trying to prove themselves as superheroes to the world--and found himself teaming up with them to save San Francisco from the menace of a supervillain named Graviton. Just as he had begun to trust these criminals, a freak accident caused some of the Thunderbolts' equipment to explode. The sophisticated apparatus Songbird used to transform her voice into force fields was irreparably damaged, and Hawkeye was lucky to be alive after his trademark arrows blew up inside the quiver strapped to his back. With one member sidelined and their leader bedridden, the team found itself asking Archangel to help fill the void.*
[* Just in case you missed the first three parts of the story...]
And here he was, making sure Cordco's goons still had plenty of targets.
"Pretty fancy flying, for a hubcap," Archangel mused aloud. "Too bad I'm a bona fide graduate of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, where I double-majored in 'Fighting Evil Mutants' and 'Outflying Stupid Contraptions Like You!'" There was something about making idle banter--even to a flying shield--that kept Warren's blood pumping a battle; something else he picked up in the school that once secretly trained the X-Men. As he spoke entirely too much to his mechanical audience, he swooped down and found the Thunderbolts still engaging the Jury...and USAgent leaving himself wide open to an aerial assault.
"Gotta hand it to you, Agent!" he shouted. "Your shield keeps up with me, even on the sharpest turns! Only difference is, I've got enough brains to pull up out of a head-on collision!" He wouldn't have explained his strategy, but he'd been feeling out USAgent's shield long enough to know that his taunts wouldn't give his opponent time to react. As planned, Archangel got within an eyelash of Agent's face before swooping off, and the former Avenger and his weapon were reunited with an audible "whump."
Archangel grinned from ear to ear as he flew up to Moonstone. "That should even up the odds, Leader Lady!" he beamed. "Anything else I can do...?"
Moonstone grimaced. It was hard enough coordinating an offensive without trying to avoid Wysper's sonic attacks. "Just _shut up_, Archangel, and let me _think_! Charcoal, get Firearm off of Jolt's back! Jolt, with the Agent down, the Jury takes orders from Sentry! Show him what you did to that cyborg last week!" She finally found an opening, and fired one of her laser blasts at the hover-disks keep Wysper aloft. With that headache alleviated, she turned to her new teammate. "And Eager Beaver here will run some interference on the rest!"
After giving Moonstone a nasty look, Archangel dived after Ramshot and Bomblast, dancing through the air and distracting their firepower from Atlas. "Not too shabby, Moonstone," the giant Thunderbolt told his field leader. "But what do you want me to do while they do all the fightin'?"
"Follow me. Did they teach you how to hot-wire cars in the Maggia?"
Jolt didn't like Moonstone very much, but she was used to taking her orders. Like the other members of the Jury, Sentry was covered from head to toe in heavy battle armor, and it wouldn't take much of the young girl's bioelectricity to damage his power source. Catching him off-guard would take a little effort, but she had the time. Firearm's flaming gauntlets had been rendered moot now that he was tangling with Charcoal, who could ignite his entire carboniferous body with no discomfort. USAgent was still reeling. Wysper seemed to be totally focused on Moonstone, to the point of following--and losing--her on foot instead of working with her teammates. Each member of the Jury were very single-minded, acquiring a single target and pursuing it regardless of how the rest of the team was doing. As Jolt buzzed around Sentry, keeping him off-balance, she wondered if Archangel wasn't much different...
Her train of thought came to a halt when she and everyone else in the battle heard the roar of engines overhead. Atlas was in the Thunderbolts' new transport ship, the Champscraft*, racing away from the scene.
[* "Borrowed" from the now-defunct Champions in THUNDERBOLTS #27]
"What the--!" Charcoal gasped. "Where the heck is _he_ going?"
Sentry began to regain the advantage against a confused Jolt. "Stay on the others, Jury! We'll track Atlas down later! That's how the Agent would play it..."
"Not this time, Sentry." Rubbing his aching forehead, USAgent put his hand on Sentry's shoulder and turned the man's attention to something else in the sky.
"Ta, ta, Thunderbolts!" Moonstone said as she waved to Archangel, Charcoal, and Jolt from the wheel of another vehicle. "I can't say it hasn't been fun, but Atlas and I haven't made it this far without knowing when to cut our losses!"
"The Justifier!" Wysper was limping through the air on one out of two hover-disks. "That witch just ripped off our transport to cover their escape!"
As the Jury regrouped, Archangel broke away from Ramshot and Bomblast to curse at the rapidly disappearing Moonstone. "Of all the no-good, low-down, dirty--I should have known all along!"
"We've got these three outnumbered, sir!" Sentry protested. "Ramshot and Firearm could go after the other two, while we mop up--"
USAgent sneered. "Brush up on your research, Sentry," he snapped. "Atlas and Moonstone are the only two of this bunch that worked for Zemo...these are just accomplices. Besides, the three million Cord pays you for them won't cover the costs of a stolen Justifier. Now let's go!" And so, with Wysper and USAgent in tow, the Jury complied, forced into their decision by their association with Edwin Cord and his personal agenda.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit!" Archangel shouted as the Jury departed. "What was I _thinking_, trusting those hoodlums! I suppose you two kids are gonna ditch me too, now that your team has fallen apart at the seams..."
"_I_ sure wasn't planning on it," Charcoal replied defensively. "But he's got a point, Jolt. What're we gonna do _now_?"
Jolt beamed with confidence, however. "Chill out, you guys. You two haven't been in the T-bolts near as long as me, and that's why you don't know--maybe Moonstone could pull a stunt like that, but Atlas..." Before she could explain any further, the Champscraft rumbled back at a lower altitude, as Atlas maneuvered the ship down to pick up his teammates. Archangel's jaw dropped.
"That went better'n I expected, that's for sure," the big man said as the Thunderbolts piled into the craft. "Moonstone's gonna pull some stunts on 'em for a while to cover our escape, and put the Justifier on autopilot while she bails out to meet us." He glanced to the stunned ex-X-Man. "Did we fool ya there, Wings?"
Archangel said nothing as his gaping mouth began to curl into a grin...
***
"Not too bad...not too bad at all!" Hawkeye commended as he struggled to his feet. "But you're sure nobody saw you and Atlas take a powder? The press will tear us two apart if they see that..."
Moonstone shrugged as she answered. "It was a calculated risk, Hawkeye. We were a few miles out of town when the Jury ambushed us, so I doubt anyone who saw us really understood what we were doing. I've got a couple of ideas for some high-profile outings--we could use them to demonstrate the Thunderbolts are still a rock-solid unit...you know, you _really_ should be lying down..."
Hawkeye smirked. "You wish. I can't just stay cooped up in that bed lettin' my back heal up while you guys are running around. The Jury ambushed you like those 'Qonkystardorz' guys, huh? You guys do okay without me, but there just ain't no one to replace me when it comes to sniffin' out sneak attacks..."
"Don't let it get to your head, Avenger. Archangel has just as much experience as you do from his time in the X-Men, the Champions, the Defenders, X-Factor..."
"X-Whatsit?"
"Never mind." Moonstone propped the wounded archer against her own lithe frame, clutching his side a little more tightly than someone with her strength needed to. "I'm _telling_ you, your back isn't up to this strain yet. Though maybe we should get you into the gym for rehabilitation...your gut's a little softer than I would have expected..."
"Oh, knock it off," Hawkeye shot back as she eased him onto the bed. "How'd you like to have a whole quiver fulla explosive arrows detonate all at once right behind you?" he asked, settling himself onto his stomach. "I can't see you layin' around topless for two weeks while some gizmo puts goo on your back..."
"Maybe you're not trying hard enough...?"
Hawkeye might have jumped right up to his feet if not for his injuries. Even so, Moonstone's joke made him turn his head so fast that it almost did a complete 360. As he looked at the sly grin on her face, he calmed his look of shock and reminded himself she'd just been kidding--nothing to be alarmed about. "Maybe you're enjoyin' it too much," he finally answered, trying to fall back into their routine banter.
"I see," she chuckled. "So I suppose you don't want me to take over for 'the gizmo' and apply your ointment today?"
"Um...I didn't say you couldn't..."
***
While Moonstone debriefed Hawkeye, the other Thunderbolts occupied themselves in the commons of their headquarters. The entire base had yet to be explored--not by the Thunderbolts, the Masters of Evil they took it from, or even August Masters*--but for all its spacious living quarters and numerous recreational facilities, the team often found itself in this one gathering room.
[* A fanatic who used the complex back in DEFENDERS #106]
Atlas was about to head back into Burton Canyon--this time as Erik Josten. He'd spent a lot of time at a sports bar since the Thunderbolts settled in this part of Colorado; the others didn't know he was trying to decide what to do about a former enemy who was working there as a bartender. Charcoal and Jolt were doing homework. More specifically, Jolt was finding yet another opportunity to complain about school, and Charcoal was trying to defend it without bringing himself to argue with her. Songbird was curled up in a chair, her impatient channel surfing hiding more subtle problems.
If Archangel had been with the Thunderbolts for more than a week, he might have noticed all the dilemmas going on in this one room. As it was, though, he only had one concern on his mind as he walked into the commons. "So I was moving some of my aerobatics gear into the gym," he announced, holding up a familiar gold apparatus, "when I found _this_ lying around!"
Songbird looked away from the television. "M-my sonic carapace? But who left it in the gym?"
"Beats me," the mutant shrugged. "But what interested me was the fact that all the doodads that blew back in San Francisco are fixed! I didn't think any of you knew how to repair this thing--"
Atlas walked up and looked over the carapace. "None of us do, Wings," he explained. "Techno built it for Melissa to use when we started the T-bolts. Since he's been gone, though, none of us coulda fixed it this good."
"You think it could be the same thing that patched up your costume, Atlas?" Archangel suggested. "Huh. I was just kidding around when I blamed it on 'magic elves,' but this is a real sophisticated device." He handed it to Songbird. "Only way to see if it works, though..."
"I don't get it," Songbird wondered as she put the carapace over her head and rested the device over her shoulders. "The Avengers told Hawkeye that a chain reaction made the vibranium in his arrows and my carapace explode! I know something in our headquarters has been fixing our stuff, but--" She stopped in mid-thought to concentrate on a few chords, and as before the carapace responded by transmuting her voice into a pink force field. "It works perfectly! But that's impossible unless--unless--"
Jolt nodded. "I see what you mean, Melissa. Even 'elves' would need to replace the vibranium in your carapace to make it work. And after that crisis Hawkeye told us about**, the nearest supply would be in Wakanda!
[** In CAPTAIN AMERICA #20-22, or you can get the Reader's Digest version in Part 2 of this li'l ol' fanfic...]
"Who's to say elves can't just make their own vibranium?" Charcoal pointed out. It was a suggestion with serious implications, and it brought a silence among the Thunderbolts. "What? I'm _just saying_, how do we know what it can't do? Whatever it is..."
Archangel scratched his head. "Something to bring up with Hawkeye, I guess. Anyway, at least Songbird flies again, right?"
Songbird said nothing as she examined the carapace.
"What happened to the rest of Melissa's gear, Warren?" Jolt pointed out. "There's a belt and a couple of arm-mounted components that she uses to make the wings..."
Songbird had no comment.
"Oh, right! I think I saw those in the gym, but I was so surprised I just grabbed the carapace and forgot about them." He spread his large, feathered wings and prepared to fly back to retrieve the accessories. "Hang on a second, Melissa--I'll have you back in the air in no time--"
"NO!"
The Thunderbolts turned to see Songbird racing out of the commons and into the nearest corridor to the living quarters. "Just--stay away from me!" she cried. "Leave me alone!"
Archangel found his jaw dropping for the second time that day. "...The _hell_?" he exclaimed. "Someone want to explain that to me?"
"She's...she's just like that, Wings." Atlas lowered his head a bit, troubled to see one of his closer friends run off in such pain. "Sometimes she just flips out and has to get away from everything. Usually I kinda know why, but...well...she'll be okay."
"She'll be okay? Shouldn't somebody talk to her or something?"
"What for?" Charcoal questioned. "She _said_ to leave her alone."
"Charlie's right," Jolt agreed. "She only went to her room. She'll be fine...she just needs some time..."
Warren Worthington watched his new teammates uncomfortably resume what they were doing before he walked in. It wasn't that they didn't care about Melissa...they were just too inexperience at caring to do anything about it. How much could he expect from an orphaned girl, a runaway boy, and a former mercenary? But then, these weren't the only Thunderbolts to go to...
***
Up to this point, Hawkeye had been receiving medical treatment for his injuries from the miraculously sophisticated technology of the Thunderbolts headquarters. Like something out of Doctor Doom's imagination, robotic modules would change his bandages and apply a seemingly panacean gel to his wounds. Right now, though, a module was sitting idly by his bed, while Moonstone scooped the balm from its open receptacle. "So," she purred, gently spreading it onto his back, "is my bedside manner better than our headquarters' automated medical equipment?"
"Your hands are less chilly than that contraption, let me tell you," Hawkeye mumbled contentedly. There was something about her that put him at ease, never questioning her motives or decisions as he let himself enjoy her pampering. "Say, Moony...if you don't mind me askin'...I can't remember if I ever caught your full name. Karla...something...?"
"Sofen," she finished. "I don't mind--it's never been a secret, except when I was trying to defraud someone. But those days are over. 'Moonstone' is fine, though."
"Huh. I guess I think of myself as 'Hawkeye,' too. I had been kinda wonderin' if I should tell the rest of you my real name. It sounds like something I oughta do, but it really ain't all that important, really. The Avengers all call me 'Hawkeye,' and they've known me for years."
"Even your wife?"
"No," came the sudden answer. "How did _you_ know I was married?"
"Was it a secret? I just remember picking it up through the grapevine somewhere. You and Mockingbird, right?" Moonstone found herself growing uneasy. "'Was married,'" she repeated. "Not anymore?"
"She...died. Just before the Avengers closed shop on the West Coast."
It bothered Moonstone. Not so much that Hawkeye's wife was dead, or that he still clearly wasn't over it, or that she'd touched a raw nerve by bringing it up. What bothered her most was that she'd made such a sloppy segue from his secret identity to what _she_ wanted to talk about, namely his marital status. Had Hawkeye been more alert, or more justifiably paranoid of her, he might have picked up on her blatant attempt to manipulate him into a romantic affair. Granted, she was undeniably attracted to the man, but that shouldn't have made her behave so impulsively. "I'm sorry," she told him, mostly to give herself time to find a way out of the subject. "That must've been while I was in prison...I hadn't considered why she hasn't been active lately."
Hawkeye too felt awkward at that moment. He'd been developing this rapport with Moonstone for weeks--she'd make a joking sexual advance, and he'd just as humorously reject it. And that was all it was, wasn't it? Regardless, Bobbi Morse Barton had been dead for some time, and he had coped with it enough that he felt confident in deciding that he would rather enjoy a beautifiul woman's flirtations than mope about being a widower. He shrugged his shoulders and quickly searched for a way to segue back into their customary dialogue. "Ahh, it's no big deal. You deserve to know if you're makin' hanky-panky with a married man..."
She smiled, and slowly used her powers of flight to lift her body silently and gently over his, until she was undeniably straddling the small of his back. Once it become obvious to even Hawkeye where she had moved, she replied confidently. "It wasn't the hanky-panky I was worried about--"
Suddenly Archangel burst through the door to Hawkeye's quarters. "Hate to interrupt, folks," he began, "but I think you two are qualified to deal with this situ--what's going on?"
Hakweye was rolling over and sitting up so fast that he aggravated his back--and sent Moonstone flying over the side of his bed before she had a chance to use her powers to stop him. The subdued sound of her supple posterior hitting the smooth metal floor made him jerk around yet again, only to stop halfway due to considerable pain. "Guhhh!" he groaned under his breath. "What _is_ it, Archang--uh, what's up?"
"It's Songbird," Warren Worthington explained, after a slight and bewildered pause. "I was telling her that her carapace has been repaired somehow, and she threw a fit and ran off to her room."
"That's to be--" Moonstone sat up from behind the bed, ran a hand through her hair to compose herself, and reiterated. "That's to be expected. Songbird's been like that for a long time. It hasn't affected her performance as a Thunderbolt yet."
The mutant shot her a look. "Am I the only one whose _not_ concerned with her performance as a Thunderbolt? She's riled up about _something_, and--"
"She's _always_ riled up, Warren," Hawkeye interrupted. "That's just her being herself. She'll work it out on her own, and she'll be fine. If she ran off to start an incident, I'd be worried, but..."
"Oh, and _then_ it matters, Hawkeye? The Thunderbolts only matter until they create a PR disaster you can't spin-doctor your way out of? I thought the X-Men had problems sometimes, but there's a lot you can learn from them, let me tell you!"
As he began to storm off, he turned and snapped, "For starters, they don't try to hide personal relationships as if they were Nixon tapes! I don't disapprove, and I wouldn't have even suspected if you hadn't jumped up like I was your father! It wouldn't kill you to trust the rest of the team once in a while..." And with that, he was gone.
"What...what the hell was _that_?" Hawkeye stormed. "Where does that blue-blooded Tweety Bird get off tellin' _me_ how to handle this team? And what makes him think there's anything goin' on with you and me? I should--"
Moonstone pulled herself back onto the bed next to Hawkeye. "Oh, come on--we both obviously had more on our mind than an innocent massage, or we wouldn't have been so startled when he walked in."
"Do _what_?" Hawkeye glared at her. "That tears it, Moonstone--it's put-up-or-shut-up time. All this flirtin' around between you and me was fun for a while, but I want to know what the score is with you, and I want it right now."
She just threw her head back and laughed. "You may be as dense as a brick, but you're the sexiest brick I've ever seen." Taking care to go easy on his back, she grabbed the archer and kissed him passionately, rolling him onto her so her weight wouldn't be on top of his wounds.
If this didn't answer his question, she thought, at least she'd have some fun finding a more obvious way to do it...
***
NEXT: Welllllll, well it's the big show...and it's really, really big...