A/N: So this took forever and a day to update. Lo siento. I've been busy with camp and getting summer work done. Anyhoo. The next installation of Lane's misadventures :D Thank you for your continued support in following and reviewing ~!

Coming soon to a fanfiction near you: one more chapter until some very unfortunate events happen to the team ! (Broken tooth ? Kidnapping ? Stepped in gum? Doublecrossing? Epic showdown with a favourite childhood character? Hmmm it might be any—or all!—of those )

"…And then he started singing 'hail the queen'." Pepper finished with a sip of wine.

Natasha laughed while Jane struggled with her own sip of wine, sputtering as she tried to reign in giggles. I was glad that I knew Tony enough to come by my amusement honestly.

For the past few hours, we'd traded stories, on their end they were mostly about the boys, on mine, my life before the Project. I chose the ones I told carefully. Maybe I wanted to prove my life was normal and full of humour, that it was the Project that brought any shade of darkness into it.

"So what's the deal with you and Steve?" Natasha asked suddenly.

Pepper and Jane turned to me curiously as my face became an ambivalent caricature.

I'd skated on thick ice up until now.

"What do you mean?" I asked. I wasn't playing coy. But the way she said it, I didn't have any idea what direction she was driving in. And it was a pretty distinct road with two forks. The wrong assumption would take me over a cliff from zero to sixty.

"I mean, he's been playing not so secret agent with you for the past couple of days. I tried to ask him about it, but he deflected."

"Oh. Well. He just feels all obligated to be my bodyguard or something, since I intervened during the fight."

"That seems very old-fashioned." Jane said. "Which makes sense, given, you know. But really? Don't you all take damage for each other at some point?"

"We do." Natasha agreed. "But sometimes it hits a lot closer to the heart than simply helping each other out. A lot of lines get blurred on the battlefield."

"Poor girl." Pepper said. "Week one, and you're already smack in the middle of team drama. That could be a good thing. Baptism by fire?"

"It feels about as good as the real thing would." I shook my head. "But you're right."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"Um. I don't know. So far I've told him exactly what I think of it. And I'm taking it as an opportunity to get to know him better." I turned to Natasha. "How long do you think it'll last?"

"Knowing Steve? He sets his mind to things. It's a cardinal truth of that man." Natasha smiled. "I'm sure some time will either help him build that bridge over what happened, or you'll beat some sense to him."

"I might." I said seriously, shaking my head again. "It might be good if he takes it personally, too."

"I'd be flattered for now." Jane said. "Steve's a fairly unassuming guy. He's warm, but he keeps to his own, too, you know? It might help you in the long run that he's thrown himself into this."

"No one to blame but himself if he gets swept up in your future drama, then, eh?" Pepper said.

I smiled slightly. "We'll just wait and see."

The rest of the night was filled with light talk. We became seriously concerned about being deprived of oxygen as we laughed at Jane's impression of Thor. We told secrets and spoke about things that truly mattered to us, but nothing that dug so deep it hurt. I think we all wanted to have the night off to focus on good things, pretty things. Our lives were full enough of uncertainty and danger on their own. We had to shoo the boys out more than once—Tony and then Thor—but overall they were pretty respectful of the solidarity of Girls' Night. We painted our nails even.

Sunshine yellow.

I hadn't done that in years.

Unfortunately, we all had to get up relatively early in the morning. Which I was the littlest fan of. Pepper had to go run Tony's enterprise, Jane had to head back to the lab, and Natasha and I had an early meeting with the rest of the team. We barely had time to down some waffles and caffeine before Fury called us down.

"I'm glad you joined us last night." Natasha said.

"Me, too." I said sincerely. Sometime in the night, I'd forged a bond with all of them. It was still weighted down with my hesitance and the still-raw feeling of meeting everyone, but I was on a speeding train to feeling truly comfortable here. I would have never believed it if I wasn't living it out.

The boys were still soldered to their own sources of caffeine when we made it to the conference room.

"Good morning, ladies." Fury nodded at us, his expression about as warm as he could manage. He still had a grim edge about him, and I bet my report combined with the reality of the incident with the Projectbot—Candice, I corrected myself—had a good shot at causing it. The whole room felt like completely cloudy with a ninety percent chance of hellfire.

"Director." I nodded respectfully. Now was not the time to antagonize him.

He began to speak as soon as we took our seats.

"I regret to inform you all that the insurgents we held in containment were unable to be saved."

There was an uncertain silence.

"What?" Tony asked. There was something like the grave in his voice, like he knew he was asking a redundant question.

"Around one o' clock this morning, the detainees…terminated themselves."

"All of them? Together?" Bruce's eyebrows were drawn. It was more than a professional interest.

"The leader gave the order." Fury sighed, but I couldn't decipher the emotion tucked inside it. "The agents on duty were unable to stop them."

"They committed suicide." Natasha murmured, somber.

"Like prisoners of war." Steve shook his head.

I looked down at my bright nails and felt sick. When had we done that? It was late. Or, so late it was early. My insides tied themselves in sailor knots at the thought of painting my nails as five people killed themselves.

And then I was angry.

"Homicide."

"What?" Thor, who was on my other side, asked. They all looked at me. Always staring.

"It wasn't suicide, it was homicide." I met Fury's eyes. "The Engineers are serial killers."

"…That may be so, but it doesn't change the facts of the matter."

"The facts of the matter are that there five people dead who didn't have to be. No matter who they were when they died, those used to be five people with five lives and five families who don't even know to grieve them." I clenched my fingers together because I felt all that frost driven violence building up in me.

"They'll make it home if they've got one." Fury promised. "Right now we have a team looking into their real identities, and we're creating an…alternate…story for their demise."

"How the hell are you going to explain all the metal?" I asked, zeroing in on the first hole in his plan.

He gave me another loaded, shielded look.

"Oh my God." My lips fell apart in disbelief. "You're not. You're going to burn them. All of them. And then what? Keep the spare parts for 'further examination'?"

"We can't let any degree of knowledge about this new technology leak into the common world, Saintclair."

"And that's our priority. Really? What does it matter if the public knows? They know about half the people you fight, anyways. They know your identities. They know there are aliens, for God's sake. And this is what matters most to you. Using more deaths as a science experiment." I hesitated, then stood up. "This isn't what I signed up for. Good luck winning that first place ribbon. But it's not happening with me."

"Saintclair." Fury said sharply.

"Lane!" Natasha.

The rest was a chorus, saying just my name and things like 'don't go', 'it's not worth it', 'you could make a difference here', 'don't throw this away'.

And it hurt. Physically, because my nails dug into my skin. Emotionally, because I was starting to really find myself here.

But what kind of person was I really if I stayed somewhere where everything was made out of obligation and iron?

The thing was, the Engineers were inherently heartless. By nature, they could ignore the suffering of others and make every tactical move with light hearts and minds at the end of the night. But SHIELD. Fury. They had a choice.

And they were choosing wrong.

I didn't really think too hard about where I was going, what I was doing. I just walked to my room, threw things in a bag—the important things, the ones I had before the Project—and walked out the door. I was half expecting someone to chase me, but then I figured they probably thought I just needed time to cool down. That was a bit unhinging. As if I wasn't as serious as an airstrike.

I ended up at a café somewhere downtown. It was fairly small, and it smelled like espresso shots and rain. I ordered a cup of tea, but I should have asked for a distraction instead. As it was, I spun the spoon around in the amber liquid, watching sugar dissolve and thinking about what I had just done. Where I was going next.

I didn't need the Avengers to be a hero.

I was just finishing my third cup of tea and second pastry when I looked towards the jingling doorway and saw Bruce head my way. My eyes narrowed. Yes, I was being a complete whiny preteen. I wanted them to realize I was through, to leave me alone, but some part of me also wanted to be chased. To be valued.

I hated it.

But I wasn't going to take it out on Bruce.

"Hey Lane." He said simply as he drew back the chair across from me.

"Bruce."

"So that was a dramatic turn of events."

"How did you find me?"

"I argued against it, but it turns out there's a sort of tracking device in your program."

"Of course there is." I glowered. It felt violating, really.

"They meant well. Everyone's quite worried about you, you know."

I scoffed. "They've known me for a week. And I promise you, the people in charge are not part of that 'everyone'."

"They are, believe it or not. Or at least, the director is. He may have double motives, but it doesn't make his concern any less genuine. Even I can see the backstory between you two. And as for the team, well, that's just it. We're a team, Lane. And we've counted you into our ranks. Right now you're a heart murmur. We're all on a different beat." He said, playing with the handle of one of my tea cups absently.

"I can't be part of something that has its heart misplaced." I glanced down at my empty cup. "What does that mean for any of us? Especially me. When I become useless, if I die, what am I then? An opportunity to root through my…circuitry."

"That won't happen. And what the director said in there, that won't either. Not like that."

"Well, not one of you did much to say otherwise, did you?"

"You hardly gave us a chance." Bruce gave me an ironic look. "We know how the director works. What you said probably had more of an effect on him than he'd ever show. But if we all approach it calmly, work on him…we all knew we could talk him out of allowing the burial to go down that way. You're going to have to accept that this is turning into a war, Lane. If we've got enemy technology on our hands, it wouldn't be very wise to send it out on a funeral pyre."

"Don't talk to me like I don't know what this is." I pushed the cup away. "I was a general in this war long before you knew it was even going on." I paused. "And I've learned well enough that it's the stands like these that matter most."

"Then tell the director that. Don't just walk out on us all the second our interests conflict."

I looked at him, shocked. There was nothing censuring or accusing in his voice. The neutral, blunt honesty was so much worse.

"Besides," he continued, "I'm sure we can negotiate on all the science parts. If the director lets Tony and I head that examination, we'll proceed with the utmost respect and care. You can be there to hold us accountable, if you'd like."

"Stop being so reasonable, Bruce. You make me feel childish."

"No. You weren't being childish. You were being passionate." He tapped my hand once. "Next time, just give us some time to discuss things before you decide we're not worth the wait."

I still felt anger in my core. It was quickly turning into a ghost, especially since regret was chasing it to the grave.

"They'll all think I'm petty." I said. I knew I was in complete pity party mode, but I really didn't want to drag myself back there after this. My grand stand that had lasted four hours.

"You honestly think you're the first to have stormed out like this?" Bruce shook his head, smiling slightly. "We've got a tally running. Guess who's at the top?"

"…Thor?" I asked. "Not that he seems like a quitter or anything. But I'm sure he has a whole Asgardian temper going on."

"Wrong. It's Steve."

"Steve?" My eyes widened. "He's practically married to this job!"

"I wouldn't say that. But he does have a hardcore set of principles. It'd take more than the human mind could even comprehend to make him go against them. Still. He's very opinionated, and whenever operations or tactics go very forcibly against his grain, he has to take off for awhile."

I shook my head. When I thought about it, it wasn't particularly surprising. Steve was read into as a "fairly unassuming guy", a 'nice guy', but I could definitely see a proud, obstinate side of him as well.

"I've taken off a few times myself." Bruce confessed. "The bottom of the list is Natasha."

"Why do you think that is?"

"This is her life. She and Clint especially understand sacrificing themselves to shades of gray to get the job done. They're subscribers to the 'greater good'."

"And what about you?"

"I subscribe to what my gut tells me. Obviously, there are times when my morals will be challenged and I'll be uncomfortable with the turnout, but that's what this is for us. A series of actions that could one day decide the fate of the world."

Bruce took one look at the table and then back at me.

"Are you ready to go?"

"As ready as I'm gonna be."

I put a tip on the table. And as I followed Bruce out the door, some of the tightness in my muscles relaxed.

I think we both passed some kind of test.

When we got back to SHIELD headquarters, everyone gave me some space. I wasn't an exile or anything. I felt like I was a flight risk, a kid who did their best to run away but didn't make it very far.

"Glad to see you changed your mind." Clint said, bumping my shoulder in solidarity.

"It's the return of the drama queen! Aragorn would be so proud." Tony said, snarky, but his smile was pure.

"We'll talk later." Natasha promised.

Thor even embraced me.

Steve kept his distance.

I wonder if he was disappointed in me.

By the time Fury got through with me, it was apparent that hell hath no fury like Fury scorned. But it was also apparent that there was an obligation between us, one that he wouldn't break if I didn't.

"Go do something productive with yourself." He finished. "We'll have another team conference as soon as we have an update on the recovery operation."

I nodded and left. Honestly, I don't like confrontation with that man. Sure, I love to rile him up and pepper his life with disagreeable comments, but I try to avoid real conflict.

Because I know better than most that beneath his scary outside is a compassionate core. But between that scary outside and compassionate core, is something of epic tales. The kind that make you sleep with a rosary.

I was walking down the hall, buried in thought, when I nearly bumped into Tony. He had a huge smile on his face. I'd learned it was hit or miss whether that meant something absolutely fantastic or completely terrifying.

"Just the friendly neighborhood cyborg I was looking for, GLaDOS."

"I thought we established that you were going to experience unhealthy amounts of pain if you ever called me that." I narrowed my eyes at him. 'Cyborg' was offensive enough on its own. But 'GLaDOS?' She was just petty and sarcastic. And a little unhinged. I thought about that for a second, and my frown deepened.

"I must have tuned out that briefing. Anyways. Guess what?"

"…What?"

"When Bruce and I were tinkering with your tracking signature, we stumbled upon a key point in the structure of your programming."

"And?"

"We think we might have found a way to deconstruct it."