I apologize for the long wait! I've been caught up starting a new job and trying to finish some projects and also goofing off. Mostly goofing off. But, I am determined to not let this story die, so bear with me! Thanks to everyone for favoriting and following and reviewing! It really means a lot to me!

It only took a couple dozen signs proclaiming the obvious for Sutton to realize that they were, in fact, heading north. The last time she'd checked, north wasn't where they kept California. She sat up straighter in her seat and twisted to see out all the windows. Her first instinct was to ask where they were going, or if maybe Clint was lost, but she didn't want to ask a dumb question and look any more stupid than she already had.

Ok, she thought to herself, deduction time.

Mentally cracking her knuckles, she put on her imaginary Sherlock Holmes hat.

Clint was a trained assassin employed by S.H.I.E.L.D.; he obviously wasn't lost. That meant he was heading north with a purpose. So, what was of interest north when they'd all agreed the lab was their end game. Canada was north. Were they going to drive up and drop her off?

But Bruce had said they wouldn't leave her!

Her face felt cool all of a sudden. He'd said they wouldn't leave her for the feds to find. Did they think she'd be safe on foreign soil? Didn't they know Canada pretty much didn't even count as "out of country"? A tingle had erupted in her stomach as she berated herself and tried to calm down. What had assumptions ever done for her before? Instead, she calmly peered out the window and said calmly,

"so, can I correctly guess we're making our way to Canada?"

"To the border, yes," confirmed Natasha.

Sutton nodded to herself.

"For," she prodded further.

"The bank."

Seeing as how the answers where getting shorter and more terse Sutton was loathe to ask another one, so she didn't. Her Sherlock hat went back on and she tried to recall every spy and action movie she'd ever seen for clues. A few seconds later and she groaned in dawning realization.

"It'll cost more in gas than I actually have in my account," she complained. "If you wanted my life savings, you should have just let me pull it out in town. Andrea knows me there. She would have believed whatever excuse I gave her."

"This way," Natasha explained very slowly, "they might assume you've tried to run out of county."

Sutton let out a huff of annoyance, but sat back in her seat. Scratch the hopeful thinking that this road trip would only last a long day.

Oh no. They were going to get nice and cozy.

"If they bothered to take one glance at my browser history, I think it'd be pretty obvious how non-terrorist I am," she complained.

"Oh, we know," Tony scoffed. "Trust me."

Sutton's sudden glare snapped to the back of his head.

"Hey! I deleted all that the day after you guys got here!"

She had, hadn't she? Yes, she knew she had. It'd been in the short amount of time they'd let her have custody of her own laptop back. Tony pointed to the top of his head over the seat without turning around to face her.

"Genius. And, as if that wasn't enough," he then pointed two fingers at the front row couple, "espionage twins. Nothing on a computer is secret for you."

She really had no response to that except to whine about unfairness and privacy acts, so she huffed indignantly instead and sat back in her seat.

Despite the fact that Sutton found herself, quite literally, on a road trip with the Avengers that didn't negate the fact that after forty-five minutes of driving, you were done. Sutton really wished she'd thought to bring a book.

The road had segments of lovely views divided by gray highway driving and she let her mind wander as well as she could. She succeeded for awhile, she really did. But after an hour of nothing other than classical orchestra playing, because if I hear one more Katy Perry song I will destroy your stereo, and, is that what this generation calls music, or, is that screeching truly considered Midgard's finest entertainment, Sutton was feeling a little stir crazy. Fidgeting was even out of the question because one move would have her rubbing against Thor's thigh and she really didn't want to give him the wrong idea. Not that he wasn't a beautiful golden-ray of sunshine of the male specimen, but she wasn't a home-wrecker. It was as she attempted to count the bolts in the passing guard rails that she remembered she might have something worthwhile in her purse. She pulled it out from where it was wedged under her seat and rifled through it. Frowning at the lack of any novel, she remembered she'd taken out the previous book she had finished but never replaced it. But, and her face lit up marginally, she had a small notecard sized notebook and a pen. Compared to the flat scenery and the dozing silence it was golden. To be fair, though, it wasn't totally silent. Tony and Bruce were murmuring back and forth and she was pretty sure from the giggles and glimpses of paper she'd gotten that they'd told each other jokes using nothing but mathematical equations.

Nerds.

And further, she supposed, quiet was better than bickering. Still, she opened the small notebook with relish and dropped the point of the pen onto a clean page.

What to do, what to do?

Inspiration did not strike her and words did not suddenly tumble onto the page, but in her boredom Sutton began writing a block of uncreative fiction. It was cliché at best but she never meant it to live outside the car ride anyway. Sutton entertained herself in that way for awhile and she filled up seven of the pages front and back. One particularly cheesy line found its way onto the paper and Sutton snickered to herself before letting out an unexpected shriek. Her notebook was on fire! A bright, hot, flame shot up from the page and rose almost to the car's ceiling. She threw the notebook onto the ground out of instinct and watched, flabbergasted, as it spiked once more in heat and then flashed bright and ended up being nothing but ash. It didn't take very much mental strain to conclude who the guilty party was. Loki's eyes were bright, but his face was hard; his lips pulled down on the corners. Sutton swallowed.

"What was that about," she snapped. "You almost burnt my fingers off!"

Loki merely tilted his head back in his typical haughty manner.

"Just a bit of mischief."

But it wasn't. Sutton could feel it. He grinned as the team reprimanded him, which was about as much a waste of breath as Sutton asking for her computer back, but his eyes were angry. She couldn't quite explain it. Everyone always made it seem like the eyes alone were giant billboards for emotions and Sutton had never understood it. You couldn't always tell how a person felt just because their eyes did something weird like change color or glint in the light. But one look at Loki and she suddenly understood how you might get clues. He was definitely not happy with her and she wasn't sure why.

Once again she pressed herself against the seat, pulling her legs up with her, and tried to think. Ignoring this Loki problem was not helping her situation at all. Obviously she'd have to divert from her usual conflict resolution tactics.

He wanted her for something, that was more than clear. But the 'why' was a different story all together.

Sherlock hat.

What where her clues? Some kind of convoluted idea of potential, Stan Lee, and now he burned her notebook. Sutton let out a long, low breath. Now all she needed was her Thinking Chair.

But it would have to wait, because Clint was turning off on the exit into a small town right before the Canadian border. After the long car ride it was ridiculously wonderful to step out and onto the pavement. Everyone tumbled out of the car and Sutton didn't have it in her to scold them for being less than discrete. For right now, she mentally appointed Clint and Natasha as responsible for their personal safety.

Stretching was good. Heavenly. And she allowed herself a good long reach for the sky once she'd distanced herself appropriately from the green clad villain. But after a quick rest stop, it was all business. Clint took her aside and started to very solemnly instruct her on how to go about getting all her money out.

"Can't I just, you know, ask for it? I mean, it is my money and my business."

Clint's hand was still loosely holding her elbow as if he had to physically restrain her or she'd go wandering after butterflies.

"No," he said flatly. "You're pulling all of your money from that bank. They are going to ask questions. They are going to try and convince you not to. We're already in hot water and we need to be a good distance down the road by the time your government gets up here. Now listen."

And he went through his plan slowly, in small words she could understand, to explain the plan. Just about the time Sutton was going to whack him across the back of the head for treating her like a kindergardener, he was finished.

"Well, got it, kid?"

"Hm, not quite," she said pointedly. "Maybe you could draw some pictures for me. That might help."

Clint just leveled her with a look and then surprised her by smirking and mussing up her hair. Sutton sputtered and jerked back, hands flying up to protect her curls.

"Hey! Robin Hood, my hair is enough of a bird's nest as it is!"

"I just thought that if you were going to act like a kid, might as well look more like one."

He began to strut away and Sutton had to have the last word.

"Maybe I would if you stopped calling me one!"

"Caw, caw, Moth-"

"LANGUAGE!"

It was more nerve wracking than she thought that it would be. Finding herself standing in front of the teller, Sutton felt an overwhelming sense foreboding wash over her. This would be like the federal agents interrogation all over again. They'd be able to read her like a book. They would think she wasn't really Sutton Regan and that she was stealing someone else's identity! Clint's words came floating back to her and she took a moment to remember them.

"Breath. Don't seize up. You aren't doing anything wrong. Just be calm about it; get in and get out. You can do this."

It was her turn next. The woman behind the counter looked up at her expectantly and Sutton took those five steps forward deliberately. She put on her friendliest, most innocent looking smile.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm moving and I'm going to have to cancel my account. I'd like to withdraw all my savings. Large bills are fine."

Her fingers trembled as she pushed over her ID and debit card to the teller. The woman shot her a look and then frowned professionally.

"That's too bad. But our banks are nation-wide. Are you sure there's not one in the area you're moving to? We would love to keep you with us."
She'd responded just as Clint had said she would and Sutton stuck to the script.

"I'm moving out of country, actually. And I checked."

"Oh," the woman cooed. "Well, we'll be very disappointed to lose you. Let me just pull up your account."

Sutton could start to feel the back of her neck grow hot. This was the risky part, Clint had said, because they hadn't been able to check if they'd frozen her accounts yet. The muscles in her calves twitched and she eyed the door fleetingly. But then she remembered her mother's own bravery and settled.

"You don't always feel brave," she'd said. "But you don't have to. If you do what needs to be done, then you've succeeded."

Sutton didn't think that she'd ever felt especially brave, but people were counting on her now. She squared her shoulders. Also, if she tried to run out now the teller would probably start to suspect something strange was going on with her. No need for any more of that then there already was. But as she stood attempting to calm herself she couldn't help but think it was taking a bit longer than necessary. The teller clicked her mouse several times and frowned at her monitor.

"Hold on," she said. "Let me try it this way."

Sutton's body immediately heated. She tried to lean casually against the counter and cover her hot face with her hand.

"My computer seems to be acting up a bit, I apologize," the teller said.

Sutton tried to wave her hand in a dismissal that didn't seem like her whole life depended on this being done quickly.

"Oh no; it's ok. You're good. That's fine."

The wait lasted a few minutes longer. Sutton felt every tremble of the second hand as it seemed to race by in slow motion inching closer to her capture. The teller suddenly grinned and quickly typed in a few keys.

"There we go! Just had to get a bit creative."

The money started sputtering out of a machine next to Sutton and she watched in trepidation for it all to arrive.

"Now I'll just close your account and- Oh!"

Snapping her head forward, Sutton paled slightly at the woman's face.

"What?"
"I must have- your account just froze." The woman shook her head. "I must have hit something. At least we got you your money first!"

Sutton felt her heart palpitate behind her ribs as she nodded mutely. Just in time? What were the odds? Either the dream team was playing some serious defense, or something was up. As soon as the money stopped coming, Sutton snatched up an envelope and stuffed it inside before dashing for the door. The cold air nipped at her and tossed her hair a bit as her cheeks flushed. She let out a lungful of air and grinned. Just in time. Now they could skedaddle down to a warmer California and get these guys home! Her grin flickered a little as she considered the idea of them leaving her behind, despite the fact that she knew it must happen. She knew she complained and overreacted, but really this was the most exciting thing to ever happen to her. They were superheroes. She'd been dreaming of superheroes her whole life. None had arrived quite when she thought she had needed one, but she had them now. And now she was hesitant to give them up. Well, besides Loki. He could go home. That was something she never imagined herself saying, but he was creeping her out.

As she scanned the parking lot for her car, she felt her grin drop completely. It was then that she came to a horrific discovery.

Her car was gone.

Eyes hot and throat prickling, she tried not to jump to any conclusions. But the parking lot was sparse of traffic and she couldn't see her hero packed SUV anywhere. Her throat closed a bit more as she clutched her envelope of cash and took a few steps out into the lot. Just in case. But she still didn't see it or anyone else.

They didn't leave you, she told herself. They promised that they wouldn't. They wouldn't lie. Besides, they need the money.

A few more minutes passed and there was no sign of anyone. It was just Sutton and the wind and a couple curious glances thrown her way. She felt something inside her that had been built up break. The next moment she scowled out at the parking lot and straightened her spine. If they'd left her for herself, she wasn't going to just sit and cry about it. That would get her arrested and in a cell block faster than she could blink. She pushed her shoulders back, chin high, and marched passed the bank towards the street. Her passport was in her bag which was in her car. Her stolen car. If she wanted to get into Canada at all now, she'd have to sneak through the woods. Probably, she'd have to stay in the woods. Maybe she could find an abandoned cabin and live off the land. The Canadian government was pretty cooperative and would most likely ship her back at the first request. She hoped that they didn't have much border patrol.

The town was on the smaller side. It was only busy at all from the border crossing traffic. It was one of those towns that seems like it's made up solely of restaurants and hotels, with one mall planted in the middle of it all. Sutton followed the sidewalk, shoving her money and her hands deep into her jacket pockets. She stayed on the outskirts of the town and avoided making eye contact with anyone. Not that it was especially difficult to. Her expression was colder than the wind currently blowing and her hunched shoulders weren't exactly welcoming.

She was heading sort of east, that much she knew, and only vaguely because the border crossing was to her left. What if there was a fence across the entire country? No, that'd be way too costly, right? A dampness gathered around her eyelids and something hot bubbled in her stomach. She remembered Bruce's open face and kind voice. Was he so skilled a liar? Maybe he'd been mutinied. And Tony and 'heart-of-gold' Capt.? Maybe she wasn't exactly friends with them, but she'd thought she'd gotten along with Tony well enough. Really, she guessed, she didn't know a thing about them. All her knowledge had been based on her world's take on their character, and obviously they were off.

The sidewalk was mostly empty besides herself so Sutton let herself grit her teeth and blink back tears while clenching her fists in her pockets. She should have known. She had let herself open up because they were superheroes and good guys and now look at her! Now she was alone and waiting to be arrested. She let out a harsh laugh that was unlike her as she considered the irony of her situation. The powers at be were sure to arrest her when she was innocent, and the one person connected to her family who deserved to be locked away still roamed free.

Figures.

She huffed to herself and pulled a hand out to wipe roughly at her eyes and then shook her head. No. Nope. No crying. She could still make it through this. She just needed to eat something. She tended to get overly emotional when hungry.

At first she considered stopping at one of the local places that she kept passing, but disregarded it in favor for a fast food place. They were less likely to remember her face there. And so, Sutton ambled up to the next Burger King and welcomed the warm air and smell of grease.

Forget the Avengers. Forget Loki and his stupid schemes. Forget the feds. Right now she was going to get a whopper meal and a coke and she was going to enjoy it. And then, after, maybe she'd try to formulate a plan.

So, the latest chapter is posted! Let me know what you think! I'm trying to get around to answering the question of Sutton's "potential", but does anyone have any theories? Review and let me know! (And forgive me for any grammar/spelling mistakes. I try to catch them all, but I know I often miss them.)