I just give her an apologetic look. This is our eighth sort-of-date and our eighth to be interrupted. Our first was interrupted by a murderous alien. The second never happened as there was a crisis with Logan and Tora. The third ended up with me leaving the cinema halfway through the film because of an Avengers crisis. The forth I don't even want to think about. The fifth and seventh were both halted halfway through because each time we saw a mugging happening and interfered. The sixth ended when Fury turned up looking furious, or more so than usual, then ordered Etana to come and tell him exactly why he now had three bodies on his hands. Etana just jerked her head at me and Nick shut up. I don't exactly know what to make of that. This time we were kidnapped. Now we're sitting at opposite ends of the room, with two wine glasses in front of us. One poisoned, one not. We both drink and the survivor is let loose. Frankly, I don't know why they bother.

"Look, let me drink both."

She just looks at me.

"Steve, do you trust me?"

"With my life."

She opens her mouth.

"But not with yours."

She rolls her eyes.

"I need you to trust me."

She steps over and pours the wine from one glass into the other and gently swills it around, inhaling the scent.

"I don't think diluting it will-"

She snaps her head back and drinks.

"TANA!"

She winks then suddenly starts to cough. Blood splatters the floor. Foam builds up around her mouth. She staggers and coughs again. I catch her.

"Damn you 'Tana. Why?"

"Trust…me…"

And she goes limp. The poison acted that fast… The door opens and I start to carry her to it. I tighten my grip on her, wondering why on Earth she did what she did. I cross the threshold and then suddenly she leaps up and spins around, hand moving swiftly and I know she's going for a knife that our captor wouldn't have realised was hidden on her. And so she does, drawing it from some sort of secret, padded compartment in her trousers. I swear she's actually about three inches thinner, but has knives everywhere. I remember something she said once.

"I always have one more knife than you think I have."

Which right know brings her count up to thirty-nine. I'm unarmed and I don't know whether she would want me to fight but I do automatically step behind her to cover her back. It's reflex now.

She turns round, holding up the rather mousy looking man who looks more like a boy than anything else.

"What is your opinion Captain? I don't like being sort-of poisoned, despite being immune to all forms of toxins. Makes getting drunk impossible."

The boy just stares.

"How did you do it?"

"Oh, faking? Well, the wine you used had an odd smell that only eighteen poisons have. Most of those are insoluble or would give a bitter taste to the wine or are incredibly slow-acting and one only makes you throw up. That left two and one is only known by one person, and that's me. I've used the poison you planned to give me and know the symptoms. I bit my tongue to get the blood and simply faked the staggering."

"Your heart stopped! I saw the readings!"

She smiles a feral, dark smile.

"The heart is a muscle. Learn to control it."

She grins again, something that is more frightening than anything I've ever seen before.

"Very easy to do once you know how."

Right now, I'm a little preoccupied but a little part of me files away the knowledge to never accept anything Etana's prepared when she's mad at me. She suddenly smiles at the boy.

"You know, that's the first time that's ever happened to me. I think you deserve points for originality."

He mumbles something under his breath. She frowns and leans in.

"What?"

"Got it off the Princess Bride."

Etana suddenly bursts out laughing.

"What?"

"And where do you think they got it?"

A moment's silence then…

"You?"

"Of course."

She lets him go.

"If you ever happen to come up with some amazing new poison, ask for Shadow, care of the Avengers."

"ETANA!"

"What?"

"You can't just go around with poisons everywhere!"

"I have since I was about eighty. No big deal."

"You've been carrying lethal poisons since sometime around 930BC?"

"BCE thank you very much. And yes."

"How many did you have when we first met?"

"On me? Eight. In the house, thirty-six, including my collection of nerve poisons."

I don't know whether to laugh or to start shaking my head in despair at her.

"Well, seeing as world domination wasn't his intention, I'm just going to let him go. Off you shoot. And if I hear about this ridiculous business again, then I will find you and do something nasty involving a little known poison from Atlantis."

What am I getting myself into?