Shadows in the Light
Fandral sat in the backseat of the car, watching the lights flicker by at an immaculate speed. Jane offered to give both he and Thor a ride to the meteor site. The crash had not happened far from where Annie lived, making it a short trip.
As he had expected, the place was filled with onlookers curious as to what was going on. The Midgardian enforcers of the law had yellow tape stretched across a giant hole in the ground that stretched the size of a building across. A wailing noise screeched into the night as several large vehicles rushed to and fro at an alarming speed.
Fandral stepped outside of Jane's bulky vehicle she had called a van, dashing to a crying female covered in dirt and blood. He gently eased her off the ground, picking her up into his arms with one swoop. Fandral carried her to the medicine men, relinquishing his hold of her to the professionals. Thor and Jane were behind him, with Thor asking the injured woman what had happened.
Fandral shook his head, pressing his hand against Thor's chest to move him away from the distraught woman. How was he so oblivious at times? It was clear to see the poor thing was in no condition for questions.
Fandral and Thor followed Jane toward the yellow tape. A pudgy hand pressed a little too firmly against Jane's chest causing her to abruptly halt. She glanced down at the hand on her chest, slowly raising her gaze to meet a large, balding man in a hat that read, POLICE.
"No civilians allowed past this point," he grunted, sucking on the top of his lip.
Jane plucked his meaty fingers off her wrinkled blouse, smiling sweetly as she narrowed her gaze. "Well, then it's a good thing I'm not a civilian," she informed him, flashing a badge at him.
The fat man laughed. Thor advanced forward. Jane's arm flung against his chest. He glanced down at her slowly shaking head at him. Taking the hint, Thor took a step back.
"S.H.I.E.L.D.? Really?" he snorted.
Jane remained unfazed. Fandral blinked, hoping she had not been a shadow copy the entire time. This was far from the blushing and stuttering Jane he knew when flustered.
"You? I know they're desperate for recruits, but seriously, you? "
Jane slipped her badge inside the pocket of her jeans. "Look, I don't want to have to call Coulson, but I will."
The man's lips the size of sausages twisted into a deep frown. "And after you've finished chatting with Coulson, can you ask Falcon for his mother's chocolate chip cookie recipe?" he sputtered into a choked back laugh.
"Mrs. Wilson will carry that recipe with her to the grave," interjected a tall, slender brunette dressed in all black from shoulders down, despite the heat radiating from the hole smoldering in the ground. "There are just some secrets that even S.H.I.E.L.D. agents will never know."
"Daisy!" sighed Jane in relief, rushing to wrap one arm sloppily around the stunning creature.
"Is this guy giving you a tough time?" she grinned at them all, thrusting a thumb at the wide-eyed man inching his way from where they stood. Without waiting for an answer, she promptly placed her hands on her hips and advanced forward, pointing at the group over her shoulder, "they're with me."
Each one of them offered the man a cheeky smile as they passed by. Fandral even went as far as patting his shoulder. They continued forward toward a group of huddled men in pressed-on suits. Jane extended her hand toward a balding man with a gentle smile and warm, blue eyes Fandral recognized as Agent Coulson.
"Jane," he clasped both hands around her one hand, "casualties aren't as bad as the smaller ones but..." his kind smile faded into a straight line."It's best if I show you."
Coulson wrinkled the corner of his eyes up at Thor, nodding in hello. "It's a shame to you see during times such as these," Thor sadly said, placing his meaty hand against the thin man's back. "But, it is wonderful to see you again, Son of Coul."
Agent Coulson pursed his lips together in a tight smile. "Same to you, Thor, but, we should hurry. You really need to see this."
Fandral, Thor, Jane, and the woman named Daisy, followed Agent Coulson through the debris and floating dust. Fires had been fought and vanquished before they had arrived, but the ashes and smoke lingered in the air. They reached a secluded area away from the medical team where a lone tent sat guarded by two men holding strange weapons. They moved aside to let Coulson in, keeping their gaze straight as everyone filed in after him.
The tent was brightly lit, casting warm shadows across the canvas. A small desk was tucked against the tent flaps next to a cot where a woman with short, dark hair and wild, brown eyes glared up at them. She hissed, her teeth a brilliant white against the dirt that smudged her face.
Jane gasped, crinkling her brows together.
Coulson placed his hands behind his back, nodding at her expected expression. "I told you that you had to see it for yourself." He glanced at Thor then Fandral. "You boys don't seem surprised."
Thor folded his arms against his thick chest. "A shadow copy leaves its mark upon those they touch."
He reached down to the chained girl, lifting her wrist into the air. A black handprint burned deep into her skin, leaving a permanent brand. She hissed, snatching her arm back, rattling the chains with her movement.
"Everyone that has been copied goes mad," supplied Fandral, shaking his head at such a wasted beauty. "Sometimes it happens within days, but in rare cases, mere minutes."
Agent Coulson frowned at that piece of information. "Shadow copies?"
Daisy hesitated before stepping forward, "it's probably time I give you a full report, sir." She grabbed Coulson by the elbow, leading him out of the tent.
Fandral watched her go, gazing at her shapely legs. Once the tent flap fluttered closed behind them, he returned his attention to the copied remained of the woman in front of him. He shook his head, walking toward her daring to kneel so their eyes were leveled once he was within inches from where she sat.
Her eyes appeared a vivid brown, her natural color, Fandral assumed. Tiny flecks of a metallic black spotted through her flared irises, like a sick fruit. "There are traces of the Kami still left," Fandral noted.
Thor joined them, pulling her face toward his with a light hold of her chin. She snarled, but he held her small jaw in his hand like a hound keeper did when a dog tried to bite. "Do you think it was Amaterasu?"
"Best to hope not," Fandral replied, though from the look of the terrified woman. he knew his hope was fleeting. "We never should have taken that sword from Mikaboshi," he muttered, kicking at the ground.
"We had no choice if we wanted to be forgiven for killing that giant's son," Thor reminded him, but Fandral needed no reminding. "We stopped them once, we will stop them again. And, we have an advantage to our side this time, my friend."
"I think this is one of those times our wit and good looks won't be to our advantage," Fandral half-heartedly replied.
"Perhaps not," smirked Thor, "though we do have—"
"Me."
Thor and Fandral spun on their heels. A wide smile spread on Thor's face as he rushed to greet the Man of Iron.
"Stark, I'm relieved you could make it," Thor sincerely told him. "Have you discovered anything from any of the other meteor sites?"
"Unfortunately not," he frowned. "Dust, rock, bits of iron, nothing out of the ordinary for a meteor. Unless, this seems strange to you." Tony handed Thor a vial filled with black goo.
Fandral felt the corner of his lips lift.
"I take that smile as a good sign?"
Fandral barked a heady laugh. "Farthest thing from it."
"Then why are you smiling?" inquired Jane, joining Tony in a tight-lipped grimace.
Thor glanced up, holding the vial tightly in his hand. "Mikaboshi has sent his knight." He held the vial up to the light. "Though, even a poisonous bite has its silver lining."
"That's good," said Jane, carefully dragging her gaze back and forth from Fandral and Thor. "Right?"
Thor flashed his somber gaze back to Tony. "Do you know anything about black widows?"
"Romanoff?" he asked.
"Spiders," Thor chuckled.
Tony shivered, sticking out his tongue. "I know of them. So, let me guess. This is the boogeyman's venom and it can cure an infected victim?"
"And they say Midgardians are not clever," laughed Thor.
"That hurts," Tony dryly replied. He brushed his whiskers on his chin, glancing around the room. "Huh, Coulson wasn't lying when he said he had nothing to drink."
"Check under the cot," pointed Daisy, reentering the room. "Coulson says he has to tell Fury about this newest information so if you guys have a way of getting rid of Mikaboshi then I suggest you do it soon."
After Fandral left with Thor and Jane, Annie was left with Darcy. Jess left to spend the night at Serah's on Annie's demand. There was already too much her younger sister knew, but just because she knew a lot didn't mean she had to involve herself in it. Annie was already sacrificing that so Jess wouldn't have too.
Though, it wasn't all bad. Annie learned many secrets the world had, including a poorly explained description of the nine realms and an overly-descript story how Jane and Thor actually met. Thor had his powers taken away and had been banished to earth for his insolence against his father, Odin. He was tossed from Asgard to Midgard where Jane had hit him with her van. Thor was going to sacrifice his life so that his brother Loki would cease his attacks. In his sacrifice, his powers returned and Thor was able to put a stop to Loki, until the madman returned in New York not long after.
When Fandral, Thor and Jane returned none of them looked pleased. Annie rose from the couch the moment they entered through the front door. She rushed to them, eagerly awaiting news.
Thor held up a vial filled with a thick, tar-like goo. He handed it to Jane but before she could grab it, Darcy snatched the glass and held it closely to her face, frowning. "What is it?" she asked, moving to uncap the cork lid.
Fandral flung his hand forward, stopping Darcy from popping the lid off. "A shadow copy was injured," he gestured to the vial in Darcy's hand, "it's like blood."
Scrunching her nose, she plucked the vial with two fingers, gingerly plopping it in Jane's hand. "Gross."
Jane pocketed the vial, grabbing for her things. "Come on Darcy, let's get this to the lab for analysis."
Darcy groaned, reaching for her scarf despite her whining. "And by lab you mean your basement?" She glanced at her watch. "It's almost three in the morning," she pouted. "Can't this wait until after we sleep?"
Jane stared at Darcy, dumbstruck. "Don't you understand? If we can find out what their blood is composed of then—"
"Yeah, but what are you going to do that can't wait until morning?" she rebutted. "Besides, all I'm hearing right now is blah, blah, blah."
"If we start now, we—"
Thor put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. She looked up at him with her mouth still hung open. "Darcy is right, Jane. You need rest." Before Jane could protest, he glanced around at all the eyes on him, adding, "All of us." Turning back to Jane, Thor continued, "In the morning, we can get to work."
"After breakfast," Darcy yawned, walking past the group toward the door.
"Fine," grumbled Jane, stalking after her friend. She glanced over her shoulder, "we'll all have brunch." Thor followed behind her, nodding in goodbye.
Thor sighed, quietly thanking Annie for the hospitality. Annie watched them leave, silent, grateful they'd all soon be gone. She could feel an oncoming headache knocking against her skull. After everyone had left leaving only Fandral and Annie she quickly distracted herself with setting up a place for him to sleep.
She was so nervous, thinking of how they had almost kissed right before the meteor crashed. It was strange how it already felt like a distant memory. But it wasn't, it was mere hours ago. She couldn't let her hormones get the best of her. Yes, he was handsome, and charming, but he was from another world. Not to mention apparently really old; B.C. old. Boy, she sighed, tossing a feather down pillow onto the couch, Asgardians sure did age well at least.
Regardless of her attraction toward Fandral, she knew it would have been really stupid to do anything more than gawk at him. Annie tilted her head, watching Fandral strip his shirt off through the crack of the open bathroom door. His muscles riveted to his slender hip bones, his trousers hung low. Annie bit on her lower lip, quickly turning away. The old Annie would have listened to her lady boner, but new Annie knew that would only create more complications that weren't needed.
Fandral stepped out of the bathroom. Annie spun on her heel to head to her own bed bumping into Fandral as they passed. She pressed her hands against his chest, blushing furiously at the surprising softness of his skin. Tiny, curly hairs poked her palms and it took an incredibly strength to keep her fingers from running through them.
"S-sorry," she apologized, laughing awkwardly to herself as she dropped her hands to her side. "Um, I guess I'll see you in the morning."
She stepped around Fandral, careful not to touch him. "Annie?"
Tucking her hair behind her ear, Annie turned around, raising a brow in response.
He gave her a small smile, "I made a wish upon the blue shooting satellite as well."
Annie snorted, though she felt her race quicken. How did he know she had been making a wish on the satellite? She might have told him the silly story, but she hadn't said she still made them. It was such a stupid, childish thing to do, and he knew that she had been silently wishing on it.
"Oh yeah?" she asked, putting one hand on her hip. "What did you wish for? If it's a pony, we have nowhere to put it," she told him, echoing her father.
Fandral widened his smile. "Well, if I told you then it would not come true, as custom says."
Annie crinkled her eyes, pursing her lips tightly together to keep from smiling. "Good night, Fandral," she whispered, turning on her heel to go to bed.
The following morning, Annie woke in a surprisingly good mood considering it was well before noon. She sat up in bed, stretching her arms above her head. In the living room the T.V. was on, dramatic music grew increasingly louder then suddenly cut off. Annie tossed her blankets off her legs, scratching the top of her messy ponytail as she walked into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.
"What is this?"
Annie glanced up from her coffee pot through the wall-cut out into the living room. Fandral had one arm draped over the back of couch, the remote dangled in his relaxed grip. She felt a small smile tug at the corner of her lips. It seemed like men on Asgard weren't so different from the ones on Earth. Her eyes fell to the T.V., watching a handsome blond man rushing through a green-screened forest to save a princess. From the bow and arrows she grasped in her bejeweled gloves, it didn't seem the princess needed much saving.
Annie returned her attention to making her coffee, pouring the dark grains into a filter, inhaling the nutty smell with a smile. If there was one thing Annie could never give up, it was coffee. Setting the timer on the pot, she joined Fandral on the couch, tucking her feet under her legs.
"Oh," she gasped, snapping at the T.V. "That's the fairytale show everyone's obsessed with."
Fandral crinkled his brows firmly together. "Fairytale?" he asked. "So then this is not a real tale of a magnificent adventure?"
Annie cocked her head to the side. "No," she slowly answered, "they're actors, like in a play, but instead on—"she waved her hand toward the T.V. "So it's just fake, not real."
"What a pity." Fandral's words were filled with remorse. "It sounded absolutely fantastic. And this Prince Charming, well, the man is aptly named, if I do say so myself."
"So," Annie started, her mind instantly on the upcoming events for the day. "The brunch?"
"Ah, yes," Fandral nodded, "and what of it?"
Annie bit down on the tender flesh of her chapped lips. "I—" she hesitated, wavering at the earnest in his eyes the color of the New York sky at night.
She didn't want to go. There was just too much to take in and so many things she didn't understand. Annie wasn't certain if going to brunch would be the best of ideas. Yet, there was something of comfort to Fandral's casual smile and sincere expression. Annie nodded to herself. He was definitely an alien.
"I probably should go get ready," she smiled, standing to her feet.
Fandral rose with her, waiting to sit back down until she was out of the room. She turned the corner, heading to her room when Jess stepped out of her bedroom, fully dressed and makeup expertly applied. Annie blinked. Was her hair that bright of a pink last night? She frowned. It was a hideous shade, to be honest.
Jess smiled brightly up at her sister. Annie uneasily returned Jess's grin with a tense smile of her own. It wasn't often Jess was so cheerful before noon. "Hey, hurry up and get ready. I'm starving."
Annie's smile dropped from her face. "There's Fruit Loops in the cupboard."
Jess made a face. "Ha, ha." Her eyes shrank into slits. "I'm going with." She folded her arms across her chest. "It's child abuse if you don't feed me."
Annie drew the line at Jess being involved in whatever it really was that she was involved in. Jess already knew way too much. She didn't need to know anything else. Hell! Even Annie thought she knew too much herself, and yet she kept throwing herself into it all because of a seventeen-year-old brat.
"Oh, you probably shouldn't bother shaving," Jess added, walking into her living room, "there isn't very much hot water left."
After Annie had showered—in which case Jess lied about the water. There was no hot water left—and dressed, she pulled her hair into a loose ponytail and slipped on a pair of white shorts and a plain gray tee. Tossing a light jacket on, Annie entered the living room startled by all the grinning faces. She recognized Thor, Jane and Darcy, but there were two other people she did not know standing in her cramped living room.
One was a short man, though still taller than she was. He looked to be in his late 30s-early 40s, with a receding hairline and kind, blue eyes. The woman to his right had choppy brown hair to her slender shoulders and dressed in plain, black slacks and a flowy red top. She and the man were the only ones in a business attire—even Thor had donned on a more casual appearance.
Everyone except Fandral that was who was still in his Robin Hood getup.
The balding man stepped toward Annie, extending his hand forward. Awkwardly Annie clasped her fingers around his, swallowing hard to force a smile she practiced a lot from working at the bar. He didn't appear dangerous, but there was something unnerving about his warm smile.
"Hello, Annie, I'm Agent Coulson," he greeted, releasing her hand. "And," he nodded to the woman by his side, "this is Skye—"
"Daisy, sir," the woman corrected with a hidden smile.
"What?" he asked, cocking his head to face her, gasping in sudden realization, "I can't believe I still do that. Sorry. Daisy," he corrected, "this is Daisy."
The woman stepped forward, taking Annie's hand in a quick hold. "Nice to meet you," she sincerely said, waving a hand at Fandral. "From our understanding, Fandral says he has offered protection to your family during this time."
"Er," Annie glanced to Fandral, feeling a sense of nervousness return. Maybe she should have told him she wanted to stay behind after all. Her eyes darted from all the strange smiles, bouncing around the living room until they fell back to Fandral. "Um, yes," she finally replied.
Fandral's face slightly hardened, just enough it was hardly even noticeable. He stepped aside to pull her into the kitchen, lightly clasping his hand around her elbow. Annie followed him, sparing one last glance into the living room. She caught a glimpse of Jess on the couch, sitting beside Darcy, giggling over something on her phone. A grimace took over Annie's expression. She wasn't certain she liked those two giggling together, it felt like trouble.
"Agent Coulson and Daisy have suggested I adhere to Midgardian fashion. Jane was going to escort me to the market, though," he hesitated, "perhaps it would be best if you accompanied me instead. It will give you more time to prepare yourself for the brunch."
Annie smirked, tucking a few loose strands behind her ear. "It's that obvious?"
Fandral shrugged, hiding a smile of his own. "You did seem surprised, but I have a keen eye for a damsel in distress and I—"
"I'm not a damsel in distress," Annie heard herself snap.
Fandral's expression caved.
"I can take care of myself," she continued unapologetically, "and I have been doing so for a long time before you and the superhero brigade showed up. I don't need to be rescued every time I am uncomfortable."
"I meant no disrespect," Fandral softly replied, his brows twisted together as he placed his hand to his chest, "I apologize for my lack of tact."
Annie rolled her eyes, sighing heavily as she glanced into the living room through the cut-out wall. "I suppose I do have to get a new purse, anyway," she told him, changing the touchy subject.
Damsel in distress? Annie scoffed to herself. She used to be, sure, especially when she first moved to New York and relied on men she thought could save her, oblivious that they had villainous intentions from the start. It may have seemed like Fandral was different, but a girl had to look out for herself in the big, bad concrete jungle.
A hero didn't come swinging in on vines when a rabid dog had her pinned in an alleyway when she was only eighteen and used a foghorn on him. A hero didn't dash into the bar when a drunk, feral badger wouldn't stop groping her and she was almost fired for punching him. She didn't need one then, she didn't need one now. Besides, it was just a brunch. How bad could it be?
Fandral suggested to Jane and Agent Coulson that Annie should take him shopping. They agreed it was best so Thor could inform them more about Mikaboshi and the Grasscutter in private. Coulson gave Annie a credit card, and she was momentarily tempted to stop at Barney's to get those brown suede boots she had been dying to have. The thought was fleeting as she pocketed the card into her shorts.
Annie told Jess to stay. She wasn't comfortable with the idea of Jess being alone with so many strangers. Granted one of them was an Avenger and a god, two were agents of S.H.I.E.L.D, and two were astrophysicists (well, Darcy was an unpaid intern and not exactly anywhere close to being an astrophysicist) but Annie wasn't comfortable with the idea of Jess asking them questions that Annie wasn't certain she wanted to know herself.
However, Annie instantly lost that fight. There was no point in arguing. Everyone ensured Annie that Jess would be safe, even though that wasn't her actual concern. She knew Jess would be, and that they'd keep the alien talk to a minimum. Which, Annie highly doubted. Jess played the naive teenager well. Too well, sometimes.
So, it was settled. Annie and Fandral would go shopping then join everyone else for brunch as soon as they finished. Jane had lent them her car, teasing them to stay away from bridges. Fandral barked a hearty laugh but Annie was hardly amused. She almost died on that bridge. Not to mention, she destroyed her only friend's car.
Not in the mood to really shop, Annie stopped at a strip mall near her neighborhood. Together, she and Fandral walked inside one of the stores. Two gangly women stood at the front register, wearing plastic smiles that instantly morphed into awkward ones at the sight of Fandral. The shorter one of the two stepped forward, greeting them with a retail voice—high-pitched and filled with fake sincerity—as she gobbled Fandral up and down with her eager eyes.
Annie moved to speak, explaining Fandral needed a new wardrobe when he grabbed the girls hand and placed a kiss on top of it. "Lovely ladies," he smiled.
Annie felt her eyes bulge from her head, surprised both women began to blush.
"I am in dire need of your help for as you can see I am quite outdated here," he laughed, gesturing to his clothes. "You seem knowledgeable in the world of fashion." He spread out his arms, his muscles creased through the tunic clinging to his chest. "I am yours to do with as you pleased."
Annie groaned as he finished with a wink. She didn't know which was worse: Fandral's oblivious personality or the fact both women fell for it. They giggled and gushed over Fandral, taking him by the hand as they showed him around, pulling out outfits Annie found herself cringing at.
She quietly followed the three of them around the store, sifting through rounders to see if she found anything eye-catching. Annie spotted a few vests she thought Fandral might like since it seemed like a common part of his attire in Asgard and she stuck to jeans that weren't as tight as the ones the sales associates were tossing at him. Fandral was busy "ooh'ing" and "aah'ing" at everything they handed him that Annie was certain they could give him dad shorts and crocs and he would have loved them.
Fandral entered a fitting room so Annie took a seat, piling her finds into her lap. She waited for Fandral to emerge, trying to overhear what the girls were saying to one another while he changed. Annie couldn't hear much but a few words stuck out like "hot" and "body" which Annie found herself even more annoyed with both women for. Not that it made her jealous to hear them fawning over Fandral, she assured herself. But, for all they knew, she could have been his wife and they were drooling over a married man. It was tacky, that was all.
Fandral shoved the curtain aside, stepping out in bleached skinny jeans that looked as if they had been spray-painted on and a neon yellow tank top with a deep v-neck. Annie cringed. It looked like something Lucky would have worn.
Both girls rushed forward, running their hands all over the fabric and Fandral's arms. To Annie's surprise he turned from the adoring women and asked her, "What do you think?"
I think you look ridiculous. She forced a smile. "It's up to you. You're the one who will be wearing it."
Fandral turned to face the mirror, brushing at his hair and goatee, glazing his eyes over his attire. He spun around, rubbing his hands over his bottom. "They are very accentuating though," he grinned, causing the shop girls to giggle.
Fandral made a face then turned back to the fitting room to try on more clothes. Several tacky outfits later, Annie handed him her own finds earning scrunched noses from the associates. They returned to the front counter, out of earshot leaving Annie restless in her wait for Fandral. Leaning to the right, she noticed he hadn't closed the fabric curtain completely leaving a small crack to see into the fitting room. Feeling the tips of her ears burn read, Annie turned away, refusing to give in to temptation when Fandral yanked the curtain open.
Shirtless, with the top of his jeans unbuttoned, he held out a pocket-tee with a frown. "Why does everything in this place have stripes on them?" With a sharp nod of his chin, he indicated toward a rack stacked high with plain colored tees. "Hand me one of those, will you?"
Annie obliged, rising to her feet to snag a shirt off the shelf. Her fingers clashed against Fandral's, his hand leisurely dragged across hers as he took the shirt from her grasp. Offering a sincere smile, he stepped back inside the fitting room, slipping the black shirt over his head without bothering to close the curtain behind him giving Annie an ample view of the dimples on his defined back.
Emerging from the room shortly after, opting to try on a vest, casual slacks, and plain tee combo, Fandral was ready for the Midgardian world. Annie stood up, looking Fandral up and down as he checked out his reflection at a nearby full-length mirror. He nodded in approval, running his hands over the front of the vest.
"That looks fantastic," the tall, blonde gabbed, eating him up with her starving eyes.
Eat a hamburger instead, Annie sourly thought to herself at the thin woman.
"You could get any girl looking like that."
Fandral disregarded her comment, brushing at the strands of his wispy blond bangs. "I could wear nothing but biglesnipe skin and still get any woman," he winked, flashing the woman a charming grin.
Annie resisted the urge to roll her eyes as the blonde turned to the brunette to giggle. They didn't even know what a biglesnipe was. Well, Annie didn't either, but she knew it definitely wasn't something from Earth. Instead of giving Fandral the odd looks he deserved, they instead fawned over him, grabbing him similar outfits Annie had originally picked out.
While he continued to try on outfits, Annie found a plain black, studded purse on clearance. She purchased it, and a matching wallet, with her own crumbled cash. The brunette assisted her, looking down at Annie from the length of her upturned nose. Just as Annie was about to pay, she recited a promotion on the perfume, spraying it directly in Annie's face. Coughing and gagging at the overwhelming cotton candy smell, Annie shook her head and only paid for the purse.
One purse, ten vests, several pairs of undergarments, more shirts and boots than Annie even owned, and two phone numbers later, she and Fandral left to join the others for brunch. Fandral chose to wear the first outfit Annie had picked out, combing absently at his goatee. He smiled at every woman they passed by that gave him a double take, which seemed to be every single one that walked by. When they finally arrived at the restaurant, Annie was fuming with annoyance, and it annoyed her even more when she couldn't figure out why.
She sat down next to an empty seat Jess had saved for her. Fandral took the one next to her, even though there was an extra spot beside Thor. She inhaled deeply, turning her attention to the menu, ignoring the conversation around her. Her eyes refused to focus on the words, which only made her irritation grow. She set her menu down, telling Jess to order her a coffee, and dismissed herself from the table.
Annie wasn't a big smoker. Not anymore. But there were times when no photo of a blackened lung, or Jess's rants about how smoking killed, could have kept her from lighting up. Annie stepped outside, digging through her new purse when she remembered it was new and held no secret cigarettes or even a lighter.
Groaning she leaned her head against the brick wall of the restaurant. This was why she never woke up before noon. Everything bad seemed to happen in between the hours of midnight to noon, especially in light of recent events.
"You look like you could use one of these."
Annie blinked her eyes open, staring at a stranger holding a cigarette in front of her face.
"Thank you," she cried, snatching the cigarette from his hands.
He chuckled, lighting the tip with a rather expensive-looking zippo. Annie inhaled deeply, slowly exhaling the sweet nectar of death. "Thank you," she said again through the puff of smoke, her voice much more relaxed.
The stranger nodded, taking a drag of his own. "No problem, I know a bad day when I see one. Want to talk about it?"
Annie looked at him through the screen of clouds. He was handsome in a classical way, not the type of men Annie usually went for. And by that she meant clean, well-dressed with great hair. He wore neatly pressed suit with a tie that probably cost more than a year's worth of her rent. His smile was billboard ready and his dark hair that swooped over his brown eyes was styled as if he had stepped off a magazine stand.
"Not really," she finally answered, bringing the cigarette back to her lips. "I'm probably just overreacting. It's not like it's the end of the world, right?"
The stranger's brown eyes sparkled as he gave her an amused smile. "You're right," he muttered to her, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping on it. "Filthy habit," he told her, "you should probably quit." With that he left her outside to enter the restaurant, probably to join a business meeting or some pretty receptionist he was banging.
Feeling sick to her stomach, Annie flung her cigarette into the sand bin returning to join her table. It was time she faced the inevitable. Whether or not she was kept in the loop, Mikaboshi was going to attack Earth. It was best if she stayed ahead rather than left in the dark, even if being blissfully unaware sounded much more appealing.
Annie stopped short just as she was about to take her seat. Standing beside Thor and Agent Coulson was the handsome stranger who had offered Annie a cigarette. He hugged Jane and Daisy, shook Thor's hand who pulled him in for a crushing hug, then introduced himself to Darcy.
Thor glanced up at Annie, beaming with a smile that belonged to a child on Christmas morning. "Annie, this is the Man of Iron, comrade and friend, Tony Stark."
Tony widened his previously amused smile even more. "We've met," he told Thor, winking at Annie.
She could feel Fandral and Jess's eyes land on her. Feeling the heat rush to her face Annie took her seat, muttering they ran into each other outside.
"Come now, I think we're closer than that," Tony Stark grinned, plucking a menu off of the table.
Jess leaned into Annie. "This is seriously so cool," she whispered, "especially now that there are two Avengers at our table. What if we end up on the front page of the tabloids? Wouldn't it be—"she abruptly stopped gabbing to sniff loudly like a rabid dog. "Did you smoke?"
Annie knew she should have just bought the stupid perfume that the pushy sales associate had tried to sell her earlier. "No," she lied, sipping gingerly at the coffee that a waiter placed in front of her. "Besides, I highly doubt anyone will even recognize Thor in his—"
"Tony Stark! Thor! Over here!"
A blinding light flashed at their table. Annie blinked, turning away in confusion as her vision was spotted with bright, white specks.
"Tony! Tony! There is speculation the meteors are the work of an alien attack."
"Is it Loki? Has he returned?"
"There's been plenty of speculation it wasn't coincidence, that these attacks were planned."
"What will the Avengers do to stop these attacks?"
"Do you have any plans to keep these things from happening again?"
"Thor, what product do you use in your hair?"
Instantly several waiters were shoving the paparazzi away while the manager rushed to their table. "I am so sorry about this," he blurted, his sweaty face a brilliant shade of red. "This never happens and we get celebrities all the time. I can assure you we will take care of the bill for the inconvenience and—"
"Thor?" Jess asked, taking the Asgardian's attention away from the flustered manager and paparazzi. "What product do you use in your hair?"
A blinding light filtered through thick, pale blond lashes. Lucky sat up, slamming his head into the palm of his hands. I didn't drink that much last night, did I? he groaned to himself, rubbing his puffy face. Slowly, he dragged his hands to his lap, glancing at his watch. It was covered in a thick, black goo making it impossible to see the numbers.
Lucky jumped up, scrambling to get the watch off of his wrist. He tossed it across the room, trying to remember what happened last night. The last thing he remembered was the flash of light from the meteor. Then nothing.
Dragging his feet across the floor, Lucky stumbled into the bathroom. He fished through the medicine cabinet, looking for something to get rid of the pounding in between his eyes. Water spluttered from the leaky faucet, rushing down the mildew-stained drain.
Lucky dunked his hand underneath the clouded water, curling it to collect a small pool in his palm. He popped six pills, washing them all down at once with the water from his hand. Again, Lucky filled his palm, splashing the cool liquid across his face. He turned off the squeaky faucet, reaching blindly for a tattered washcloth crumpled on the floor.
Drying his face off, Lucky peered at his gaunt reflection in the mirror. His skin was paler than usual, and the vibrancy in his red hair duller than usual. But, nothing was stranger than the black mark poking out from underneath the low neck of his tank top.
Yanking the collar of his shirt down, Lucky stumbled back into the wall knocking into a cabinet filled with towels and toilet paper crashing at his feet. He inhaled sharply, staring with wide eyes at the black handprint burnt into his chest. With trembling fingers, Lucky brushed his skin against the mark, cringing at the rough, raised charcoal-like print.
He cried out, yanking his hand to his side, swallowing his thrashing heart back down his throat. What the hell did that to him? It wasn't a fucking tattoo that much Lucky knew. What was happening?
Just then the mark on his chest cracked and flaked off, like ashes blowing from a chimney. The burnt skin gathered at his feet, swirling around and around until they created a smoky figure. The smoke took on a corporeal form, and Lucky was left gaping at a grinning reflection of himself.
Lucky screamed, pushing himself further against the wall as if it would embrace him in a protective hold. "Who are you!?"
His reflection laughed, the voice not his own. "Why, I am you, Lucas."
Lucky blinked, taking in the vaguely familiar accent. "What-what are you?"
"I am many things," his face told him. "I am naught but a shadow in your world."
"Shadow?" he whispered. Images of an alley flashed in his mind. Shadows, he thought. "Why do you look like me?"
"I am you." His green eyes blinked blankly back at him.
This was weird.
"What do you want with me?" Lucky asked, slowly rising to his full height.
"Nothing with you in particular," his reflection replied, titling his head.
This was really weird.
"Though we have come to Midgard for a reason, this is true."
Lucky licked his lips, pulling his brows tightly together. "Midgard?"
"Yes," his image replied, deadpan. "Your planet, Midgard. You are my vessel here, my shell, for I cannot walk upon Midgard's soils in my true form so we use your earthling bodies to provide us safety."
"But...but why do you have to look like me?" he sputtered waving his finger back and forth from his chest to his other chest.
"Enemies lurk everywhere, my guardian," he smiled, flashing his teeth. "Better to be safe, would you not agree?" When Lucky said nothing his reflection elaborated, "I am a copy, you won't notice my presence save for the mark on your pelt."
Lucky licked his lips then swallowed hard. He had to have taken something. Maybe someone at the bar slipped something in his drink. Or, maybe that Fandral guy poisoned him to lessen any competition for Annie. Whatever it was, this could not be real.
"Why are you here?" he asked, pointing at the ground. "Why are you here on Midgard?"
His face tilted to the side, knitting his brows together. "We seek something of importance. We only wish to peacefully search for it, using Midgardians as our shells and nothing more. Once we find what we are searching for, we will leave quietly."
"But," Lucky was about to ask how they had arrived in the first place, until it felt as though a light had actually turned on inside his head. "But the meteors weren't peaceful. People were injured, some even died, ya know?"
His reflection frowned, nodding with remorse. "It was an unfortunate casualty."
"Casualty..." his phone rang in the living room. Lucky darted his eyes toward the sound, wondering if it was Annie to apologize. He looked back to his reflection, hardly recognizing his own face. "What if I said no? What if I didn't want you using my body?"
The reflection heartily laughed, drowning out the telephone's ringing. "I am afraid there is no choice. Once you have been chosen, only I can choose to leave and I will once I have what I am looking for."
Again the phone ring and Lucky felt his throat tighten with each trill.
"Go," the reflection encouraged. "Live your life as you were meant to, Lucas. I am naught but a shadow."
