Disclaimer: I do not nor will I ever own any of characters depicted below that you may recognize...they belong to forces higher then me, and I respect them and applaud them for their beautiful creations.
Steve and the Professor
Steve stared apprehensively at the large college campus that Harper insisted was "perfectly safe", and "not a death trap", but Steve knew better. The place was crawling with…youths, and punks, and…learning happened here…it was obviously a major danger zone.
Nonetheless, the good father he was, he'd promised to retrieve Harper's homework for her, and thusly that meant he needed to probably actually go into the building.
So Steve, who always jumped at a challenge, sighed heavily and got out of his vehicle. Though many obstacles attempted to take him out, (read: a skateboard, a dog, and a few ginormous backpacks) he somehow made it to room 216, and forgive him for bursting into the classroom and slamming the door shut behind him in relief…he's an old man.
"Are you alright there?" A dry warm voice asked, and Steve straightened, gaze moving to the front of the room, where a tall brunette woman with warm brown eyes sat at a desk, stacks of paper in front of her.
Steve blinked a few times. The woman was STUNNING.
She raised a brow. "Are you Harper's dad, then?" She asked slowly, and Steve snapped out of his daze.
"Oh! Uh, yeah, that's me." Steve grinned bashfully and started moving forward. "You must be Professor Johnson."
The woman grinned. "Please, call me Laura." She stood as well. "How's Harper recovering?"
Steve grimaced.
"That well?" Laura smiled, and Steve chuckled. "She's doing great." He explained, "She'll be up and about in no time."
"But?" Laura asked.
"But she wants to be up and about NOW," Steve rolled his eyes. "She's ready to get back to the grind."
Laura nodded. "That sounds like Harper," She agreed. She pulled out a file. "I have the assignments she needs to complete for my class here, and I also took the liberty of contacting her other teachers and gathering the work she needs to complete for those classes as well." She handed the file to Steve, who looked surprised.
"That's really great of you to do that," Steve thanked, and Laura shrugged.
"Harper's one of those students who genuinely wants to be here, and you can tell." She explained. "She makes my job as a professor more enjoyable as well."
Steve grinned. "She's just like that." He agreed. He looked down at the file. "Well, I ah, better," he frowned, "Is this language homework? He frowned and tilted his head, and Laura moved from behind her desk to peer over Steve's shoulder. She snickered.
"No, that's math." She corrected. Steve shot her a look.
"But there are letters." He argued.
Laura smiled. "Math has letters."
Steve looked back down at the paper with a frown. "Letters in math." He shook his head. "Next you're going to tell me they put math in science."
Laura bit her lip and looked away, taking a moment to calm herself down, before looking back at Steve. He looked so sincere, that she couldn't help it.
She laughed.
Steve rolled his eyes. "Alright, I don't even want to know. I'm not revered for my math or science skills."
Laura shook her head. "No, probably not," She agreed, looking him over.
Steve missed the innuendo, too focused was he on glaring once more at the homework in front of him.
"I'm gonna need a tutor in order to tutor her." He complained.
Laura snickered. "I hear that a lot, actually." She moved back to her desk. "Well, my door is always open if Harper, or anyone else," She winked, "needs help understanding anything."
Steve smiled. "I'll keep that in mind. It was very nice meeting you, Professor Laura." He winked.
She smiled back just as warmly. "Right back atcha."
It wasn't until Steve was on his way home that he realized the pretty science professor may have actually been flirting with him.
"Well," Steve smirked.
"I still got it."
Team Bonding
"Okay, who picked an art museum?" Tony grumbled to Bruce.
Bruce shot Tony a wounded look. "I did."
Tony winced. "Great idea. Art, yay."
"It's actually really fascinating." Avery spoke up, pushing his glasses onto his nose. It had taken a few weeks of running into doors, but eventually he'd admitted that his eyesight was horrendous and he really needed glasses…IAS hadn't let him wear them, they'd said it had ruined his image. Eventually Harper had forced him to admit his need for them, and after the Avengers had told him it was all good, he'd brought his out. "Art is our way of understanding the emotions and priorities of eras that we'll ever see or get to be a part of. Through art, we get as close to feeling what they did as we can."
Tony shot Avery a nerd. "For as good-looking as you are, you're a nerd."
Avery made a face. "You're saying nerds have to look a certain way?"
"Well…no." Tony shrugged. "They just don't usually come in your size."
Scottie snorted. "They come in mine?"
Tony grinned. "Exactly.
Scottie was small and slim where Avery was tall and broad, dark-haired where Avery was blonde and between the two of them, Scottie looked more nerd than Avery.
The opposite was true.
While Avery COULD kick your butt if he wanted to…he'd rather be studying butterflies or taking apart Tony's robots, (Which tony was equal parts happy and irritated about,) and while Scottie could hack his way into the government files with a toothpick and some baby oil, he'd rather be playing baseball or kicking your butt at literally any video game in existence.
So while Tony rolled his eyes and made fun of the naked portraits with Scottie, Bruce and Avery bonded over art appreciation. And afterwords, when Tony and Scottie fought over who could eat the most burgers, Bruce and Avery watched in disgust.
So a good day, for everyone involved.
"Alright." Clint shot Thor and Will a look. "Let's get our story straight. If anyone asks, we were where?"
"Barney's Bar and Grill." Thor answered promptly. "Will ate three burgers and we had a few beers."
Clint nodded approvingly. "And after?"
"We went and watched the monster truck rally across town." Will responded. "I even have the ticket stubs we stole as proof." He held up three wrinkled tickets.
"Right." Clint agreed. "If they ask why we're back so late?"
"We were so pumped up from the pure manliness radiating from the event that we felt the need to go to a man-infested diner and ingest a manly amount of red meat." Thor issued out the explanation promptly.
Clint winced. "Yes…but said in a way that doesn't scream "WE ARE MEN" so loudly." He corrected. He turned to face his two partners in crime sternly.
"Alright." He said after a moment. "I think we're ready.
And the three of them hurried to the ticket desk where Will smiled bright and said,
"Three for Legally Blonde: the musical please."
"You think Harper's okay?" Steve asked, worriedly eyeing his phone.
Jake snorted. "I think she's perfectly fine." He promised. "She's probably eating you out of house and home, right now."
Steve's eyes widened. "I didn't go shopping yesterday." He blurt out. "What if she's hungry for something we're out of?" He grimaced. "Maybe I should run by the store; drop a few things off…"
Tasha shared a bewildered look with Jake and Dave.
"Uh…Cap?" Dave spoke up slowly. "You do realize that Harper's 18? I think she can take care of herself."
"But she's recuperating." Steve argued.
"From a bullet wound, yes." Tasha agreed. "But she's healing remarkably well and if you go home and bug her she may throttle you to death."
Steve grimaced, but Jake nodded. "And then she'll have to recuperate in jail. Because she was arrested." Jake paused. "For murdering you," He added.
Dave's phone beeped and he held it up with a smirk. "Look, cap, she just texted me-"
Steve snatched Dave's phone out of his hand so fast Dave flinched.
Tell him to stop worrying….i can feel it from all the way over here.
FATHER I am FINE.
Enjoy the game….
Geez.
Steve sighed and rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay, I get it." He handed Dave his phone back. "I'll try and enjoy myself."
Dave, Jake, and Tasha shared a relieved look, and settled into their amazing seats.
Steve could enjoy himself right?
It was a baseball game…and he LOVED baseball.
It was only two minutes before he sighed.
"Harper won't go to jail." He decided. "Morris wouldn't let that happen." He stood. "I'll just run home, and be back before the third inning-"
"STEVE." Dave hissed.
"ROGERS." Jake added.
"SIT." Tasha demanded, and the three of them ended the command simultaneously,
"DOWN."
Steve sat.
Jake tilted his head. "Is that what this is all aobut?" He asked suddenly.
Steve took on a hunted look. "What?"
"You're smothering her right now because you're overcompensating." Jake guessed.
Steve looked pointedly away. Tasha nodded slowly.
"Harper's real dad is here now, and he wants to be a part of her life." She inferred. "So she doesn't really NEED you anymore."
Steve crossed his arms.
"And you're trying to make yourself unreplaceable." Jake shook his head. "You're smothering her."
Steve made a face. "But I do it out of love." He argued.
"Well, you can't love her if you're dead." Tasha added bluntly. "So back off."
Steve huffed, but nodded.
"Fine." He agreed.
Dave patted him sympathetically on the back, and Steve finally allowed himself to enjoy the game.
The others couldn't complain when he called Harper as soon as the game ended…honestly they thought that he would've caved way before then.
Forged Files
"Harper Kennedy," Morris stood, watching the grinning teen approach his desk. "You are supposed to be at home." He stressed. "I said a week."
"And it's been five days." Harper countered. "I feel fine, I'm horribly bored, and my Dad's busy bonding with boys and doing boy things." She leaned on his desk. "At this point, I'll do anything…filing papers, stitching up dead bodies, dealing with Mrs. Whithers crazy complaints,"
"Oh ho ho!" Morris grinned. "Don't say anything dear, I might give you the most tedious, mind-numbing job I can think of!"
"I stand by what I said." Harper grinned. "ANYTHING."
Morris crossed his arms and thought for a moment. Then he nodded. "Alright follow me."
Harper smirked, and followed the man to the filing room.
"Well this is…" Harper furrowed her brows. "A paper tornado. What happened?"
Honestly?" Morris shrugged. "I don't even know. It's been like this for years. Fancy a challenge?" He grinned, and Harper winked.
"Do you know me?" She countered, and with a jaunty salute and a whispered good lucky, Morris left her to it.
Harper made a face at the teetering towers of files, then she nodded.
She could do this.
"How's it going in….whoa." Morris paused in the file room, shocked. He had to walk back out the door to check and make sure he'd gone to the right room.
Harper shot him a look. "What?"
"It's like a completely different room!" He grinned, looking at the stacks of paper, all divided and organized into some semblance of order, and Harper, standing in the middle of all of it. "I didn't even know there were filing cabinets in here." He looked around, impressed.
Harper shrugged. "Eh…I like to organize things." She shrugged. "It soothes me." She brightened. "Oh hey! I found something that might interest you." Morris raised a brow as Harper handed her a file.
"It's mostly blank," Harper apologized, "Looks like whoever caught the case didn't much care seeing as the vic was," She made a face, "homeless. But!" She brightened. "It sounds like the vic was worried about a friend of hers who'd gone missing…said that it had been happening all over town, and she was worried about a serial killer…" Harper shrugged. "But they didn't take her seriously." Morris eyed the file seriously.
"That's just the initial report." Harper added after a moment. "Looks like she came in a few more times, but that file isn't here. I checked."
"But we have a case number." Morris smiled. "Which means I can find the other reports. This is good work, Kennedy." He complimented, and Harper winked.
"All in a days work." Harper brushed off airily, and Morris hurried off.
"So we have a case number." Morris glared down at the bottom of his desk. "But I don't have the authority to access the files."
Harper, a few hours later and filled with the glow of success, stared sympathetically down at the pouting detective.
"Give me the file number." She asked, hand out.
"What?" Morris looked at her blearily.
"Give me the file number." She repeated brightly.
Morris frowned but handed over the numbers, and Harper slid the paper into her pocket.
"I'll get you your files." She promised.
"How?" Morris asked suspiciously, and Harper winked.
"Don't ask questions you don't want to hear the answer to." She advised.
Morris smiled. "You heading out then?"
"Yep!" Harper grinned. "It's 8pm, you should come with me."
"It's 8?" Morris stood abruptly. "You should've left three hours ago! Your dad must be freaking out."
"Nah." Harper disagreed. "He's only called me like thirteen times."
Morris raised a brow.
Harper grinned. "He has no chill." She leaned against his desk. "So? He said you're invited over for dinner if you want."
"Oh no." Morris shook his head immediately. "I couldn't impose," he tried, and Harper shook her head.
"He said to tell you he insists, and he made tamales, so you have to come." Harper grinned. "It's a Mexican joke."
"Yeah, I caught that." Morris chuckled. "Thanks."
Harper nodded cheerfully. "Anytime." She tilted her head. "So. Dinner?" She prompted.
Morris tilted his own head. He knew very well that she would stand there smiling brightly at him until he agreed to go with her, so he stood and grabbed his jacket.
"Tamales it is."
And when Harper beamed and pushed her arm into the crook of his elbow, Morris smiled and admitted, if only to himself, that it wasn't really that hard of a decision to make.
Morris and Harper are adorable...but not as adorable as Steve and Harper, of course!
Plot and crisis continue to slowly appear, yay! Next two chapters up next Wednesday!
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~CLC~