Author's Note: Guys, this chapter is almost twice as long as my usual chapters. Because I didn't know how to end it. So I hope you enjoy. For those of you who are reading my other story Under a Violet Sky as well, I just want you to know I think I'm putting up the first chapter for the sequel tomorrow. *Cough* callieandjack I'm looking at you! *Cough*

Hope you enjoy the new chapter!


"No," I snapped. I didn't like to get snippy with Natasha 'cause she could kick my trash into next year, but there was no way.

Oh. Hi. I'm still Quincy Brooklyn Robinson. But you knew that didn't you? I can imagine a few incredulous and confused expressions. You're wondering what happened to me after the dream aren't you? (If you weren't, you probably are now…) Well, to be honest, nothing really. They locked the Breaker in a holding cell in the Triskellion basement, and I woke up again to horrendous amounts of pain still tearing through my body. It took about a week of me lying around all day doing nothing to fully recover—but you should have seen Clint's face when I finally woke up again for good. He was the one watching over me and I woke with a loud girly shriek. He leapt out of the armchair and nearly hit his head on the tray next to my bed.

"Quincy B. Robinson," Natasha warned. "You are wearing this to Tony's party, and you are going to like it!"

I rolled my black eyes. "Nat," I retorted. "Do you see the neckline on that thing?" I was really working myself up into a good fit of frustration.

"Yes. It's not like it's too revealing."

"That's not what I'm worried about." I ripped my comfy blue T-shirt off and threw it on the ground full force, leaving me standing there in just my tank top. "This is what I'm worried about!" I spat, jabbing one of my fingers deep into the scar on my heart. It was a lot longer than it had been initially because apparently flying me to the hospital in Thor's big Norse arms tore it. "Do you think for one second that people won't stare? That people won't whisper about me with their hands shielding their mouths so I won't see? Because I don't!"

"Don't go getting all emotional on me," Natasha said sarcastically.

"Just because you're an emotionless robot doesn't mean I have to be—just like the fact that I don't have to be a man to be a genius because Tony is one! I just got out of the freakin' hospital two days ago, I can be emotional if I dang-well please!" I shouted.

Natasha—quite unamused and threateningly I might add—folded her arms over her ribs and began to tap her foot, one bright red eyebrow raised up higher than the other. She was probably waiting for me to apologize. But I had worked myself up into such a fit—unnecessarily—that there was no way I was going to say I was sorry right then. Quite simply, it wasn't going to happen. I wasn't apologizing, and I wasn't wearing what she wanted me to wear.


So how I ended up in the glittery scarlet dress and the three-and-a-half-inch heels to match is honestly a complete mystery to me. I also don't remember how my hair ended up getting torn out of its usual braid and done up in a fantastic curly up-do that I was going to be pulling at in the next five minutes. All I remember was beginning to walk into the huge ballroom that was on one of the floors of Stark Tower.

There weren't a lot of people there for the party. Tony and Pepper, Thor and his sort-of girlfriend Jane, Bruce, Steve, Natasha and Clint, Coulson and some woman I'd never seen before with dark hair done up in a tight bun—later identified to me as Agent Maria Hill—Fury and some woman I'd never seen before and no one else knew either, and last but certainly not least, my parents. Mr. and Mrs. Robinson were over by the punch. It was a dark red that reminded me eerily of the blood that I'd been soaked in about a week before. Yeesh.

I never told you much about my parents did I? Why I didn't live with them, why I ended up travelling English-speaking countries (and that one time I went to Russia) hacking computers. There's not much to tell. I finished high school three years early (only graduating freshman in my school ever) and moved out to go to college—which I graduated after my first year too. I'd always been a good hacker, but in college I'd taken it to almost dangerous levels. And since I'd moved out, my loving parents weren't there to help me out. I'd done all sorts of weird hacks and probably committed every computer crime the government had a law for. I don't know really. Next thing I know, Phil Coulson is sitting next to me asking me to come help the Avengers hack into the Ripple Base.

My parents saw me from across the ballroom. Both rushed to me and flung their arms around me. I felt like crying again. Both of them ran their fingers down the scar on my forehead and touched the one on my chest that was clearly visible. Unconsciously I flinched away from their fingers. "Oh we're sorry baby!" my mom exclaimed. "That must hurt!"

"Not as much as my feet do in these shoes," I amended sarcastically, pulling up the hem of my skirt to show the annoying heels. My parents both grinned.

I didn't realize that the party was about to get bigger. Over the course of the next hour people came in waves. The only people who knew the occasion for the party was me, my parents, and the Avengers—and those they brought with them.

"Miss Quincy Robinson," a voice stated. I turned. It was the woman I saw before with Coulson that had the severe dark bun. "My name is Agent Maria Hill."

My first instinct was to be sarcastic and ask if her first name was Agent or Maria. But I bit it back, thinking it would be a bad idea to get on SHIELD's bad side given the major event I'd just gone through. "Hi Maria. Call me Quinn." She grabbed my forearm and led me to one of the tables that bordered the outside edges of the room and sat me down.

"The man who was torturing you," she started.

"What about him?" I demanded edgily. Did I even want to know?

"We had him interrogated. We found out who he was working for. We're assuming he's telling the truth, but you never know. The name he gave us is a man named Thomas Williams. Do you know him?" Maria asked me.

I put my tongue between my teeth in thought. Thomas Williams… Thomas Williams… I turned the name over and over in my head, trying to pull something out of the ether that was my brain. Somewhere in my vast memory banks… did that name mean anything? "Off the top of my head, I can't say I do," I replied. "I'm sorry." Maria shrugged and assured me she didn't think I would know him—whoever he was. She figured he'd just heard of me or maybe I'd hacked into his company once and I didn't know it was his.

I excused myself quite quickly and made my way into the pristine ladies restroom. In one of the stalls, I lifted up the hem of my dress. I didn't know why unmarried women were supposed to wear garters under their skirts, but the one Natasha had somehow got onto me had a small pouch that held a small glass panel—Tony's new JARVIS system. So I pulled my dress up to my thigh and extracted the glass. "US Census database search please," I said to it.

"Name?" JARVIS asked British-ly.

"Thomas Williams."

For the next five minutes I went scrolling through dozens of results of the American Census over the past one hundred years. I figured I couldn't be away from the party for much longer than seven minutes before people started wondering where I was. None of the men I looked at would have any reason to hire the Breaker to torture me. None of them owned a business I had hacked into at any time in my life, none of them worked for a company I had hacked into at any time in my life. So why would he want me? Whoever he was?

I had just moved to leave when a thought struck me.

What if he wasn't American?

I rubbed the scar on my forehead thoughtfully before deciding to ask JARVIS a few questions. "Is there a man in Britain or Australia with the name Thomas Williams that would have any reason to harm me?" I asked. A colorful little circle spun on the screen to show it was loading.

"Hack signature required," it replied. Of course. If a Thomas Williams owned a company I had hacked, there would need to be a trace that I'd hacked it for JARVIS to be able to tell.

"A QBR in the corner of the screen," I told it.

"Quincy Brooklyn Robinson has hacked the company of a Thomas Williams from London, England two times in the past."

"What's the name of the company?"

"Nordic Incorporated."

I put my head in my hands and shut the plate of glass off. I remembered that job—those jobs. It had been painfully easy. And now Mr. Williams was out to get me for doing the job his employees had hired me to do: Break into their systems to see where they needed to improve security. I'd told them most of the truth but kept a few back ways secret and unknown in case I ever needed to get into their servers ever again for any reason.

I left the bathroom and went back out into the ballroom. Steve grabbed me from behind as I moved to go talk to Coulson. "Dance with me," he insisted.

"What for?" I demanded testily.

"No reason at all. You're recovered, and you're back with us. That's all that matters."


End Note: Hope you enjoyed. Anyone notice my Easter Eggs? I'm not telling you what they are because then you wouldn't have noticed them. Tehehe. Sorry.

To "WhovianTributeSherlockian": Her Dad is still alive obviously, and no she's not going to be paired with anyone. Thanks for saying she'd be suited to Steve though, that's why I had him come dance with her. If you want a romance written by yours truly, you'll have to read my sequel to Under a Violet Sky when I start putting it up tomorrow. The main character in that is paired with Steve actually. To "Lorelei Tatsuye Marivaine": You're very welcome, sorry for the confusion. To "Demigod-GallagherGirl": Thank you very much! To "callieandjack": The UaVS sequel is coming tomorrow! Hehehe. And of course I wouldn't be that cruel. Why would I rip Quincy away from you when I love her so much myself? No, I need to keep her alive for my other ficlets. To "Rainbor123": They won't be one-shots because I have a novel-length mindset for how I write. I'm not good at short. They will probably all be about nine or ten chapters each. But yes, it will continue. They'll even be under this title too so people don't have to go hunt down others. To "FadingEcho12193": Not sure. Her heart wasn't actually damaged, but she lost a lot of blood. So I think I'll leave that up to you and your imagination. What do you think? To "acompletenerd": Quincy wasn't made to be deep. She has to be pliable to I can put her in other stories and situations. The plot is slightly lacking for a similar reason, so I can bend and mold things. Sorry she's not exactly how you'd like her. On the other hand, I think she's a little bit deeper than half of the OFCs I've seen on here. (No offense to anyone.) To "FanFicVaporeon": Um... I highly suggest you put that tank back from wherever you got it from. I suppose you can shoot him though if it makes you feel any better. To "Sapphire Roz": Thank you very much! To "leebee14": Thank you as well!

Thanks everyone for reading!

~Cass