Stan Lee was sitting in the cozy cafe in a booth near the back, with a clear view of everything in front of him, the tables and windows. The only thing not in his view was the tv, a news report playing in the background. He tuned that out, along with other noises as he sipped his coffee and read his newspaper.
Suddenly, a boom crashed from somewhere outside on the street, and the small cafe shook. His coffee was nearly knocked off the table it was shaking so hard, and Stan's teeth chattered in his head. When the shock ended, people stood up and crowded the windows, trying to find the source. There was a pillar of smoke rising off in the distance but blocked by other buildings to prevent seeing the whole picture.
A few brave souls ran out of the cafe, intent on finding the smoke and helping out, while others sat back in their seat and immediately restarted conversations, discussing what might've happened. Stan watched for a few moments more before he turned back to his newspaper and coffee. Someone would take care of whatever that was, he was sure of it.
Seconds later, the little bell above the door rang, signaling a new person walking in the door.
Normally, Stan would pay little to no attention to whoever walked in, but this time it was different. The duo that walked in bringing more than just his attention, all eyes were drawn on them, but they looked like they didn't have a care in the world.
The woman was wearing a skin-tight leather suit, long rips and tears breaking the perfect black sleekness of it. Dust and bits of dirt stuck in fiery red hair, matching the dirt streaks that ran down her face and whatever bare skin there was. Where there were rips, there was also blood, bright and as red as her lips, where the lipstick was impossibly not ruined. Blood ran across a cut above her eyebrow, and bruises laid across her temple.
The man she walked in with didn't look much better. His dirty blonde hair was also covered in dust, dirt smudged across his face. Blood staining the hair above his ear ran down the side of his face, and he seemed to be limping slightly.
The most terrifying part, however, was the fact that they were walking in with bright smiles on their faces, ones that looked genuine. They sat down together in a booth in the front, and a horrified waitress cautiously walked over, legs shaking, to ask if they were alright.
The redhead nodded, although the waitress didn't seem convinced. The man was buried in a menu from the side of the table, and Stan overheard the waitress asking if they want anything. The woman shook her head and just asked for a black coffee, and the man didn't make any movement that showed her he heard. The waitress blinked and stood there confused, while the woman apologized, reaching over and pulling the menu down from the man's view and waving in front of him. Stan saw her hands moving and recognized it as sign language, and a second later she told the waitress he would like a coffee too. The waitress walked away, looking a little frazzled, and Stan continued watching the pair.
The man pulled a little piece of broken of plastic from the side of his head and threw it on the table, purple and smashed. They continued on their conversation in sign language until the waitress brought them their coffee. The man dumped packets of sugar in there and they both down the coffee in one gulp before the waitress could even walk away. She stood in shock, before remembering that she had the pot, pouring them each a new cup. Satisfied that they weren't going to drink it all, she walked away, leaving the pitcher of coffee on their table.
Stan watched fascinated for a little while longer, wondering what they were talking about. It was very animated, and it almost every sentence ended with them laughing, the man's unusually loud. Stan smiled as he watched, and they seemed to notice him and looked in his direction. Red flooded Stan's cheeks and they smiled at him, sharing glances with one another, and Stan hurried to look back his newspaper.
Then the tv volume turned up, changed by one of the waiters, and Stan turned around to look. "Breaking News!" flashed underneath the news anchor, and a picture of a blown up bank was up in the background.
"-and we have just gotten word that an attempted robbery at New York National Bank has been thwarted by the Avengers' own master assassins, Hawkeye and Black Widow! The suspects had been apprehended, but not before the pair barely escaped the exploded building with not only their lives but the lives of all the hostages trapped inside as well. More in on that-"
As soon as those words were said, Stan whipped around to look at the booth where the odd-looking pair had just been, only to find it empty. He got up and nearly jogged to the table, taking a quick peek out the window to see if there were still there, but they were gone.
He looked back down at the table, and underneath a still-steaming cup of coffee, was a napkin with writing on it. He picked it up and smiled as he read it.
To the guy watching us-
See you next time
Hawkeye and Black Widow
