-Chapter Twenty-

"How much sleep have you gotten in the last few days?"

Avery blinked, struggling to keep her eyes open as she thought over Director Fury's question. Under normal circumstances she would have responded with the highest grade snark imaginable, but at the moment she couldn't even see straight, let alone do math without making her pounding headache even worse. She couldn't tell if it was the slight hangover she was sporting, or the fact that Fury thought it was even remotely decent to have meeting at seven in the morning, or some ungodly combination of both, but she felt like her head was swelling bigger and bigger with each passing moment.

"Enough to not slip into a coma," She paused, leaning forward to rest her head on her balled up fist, regarding Fury with a dark look that she hoped conveyed her general feelings overall towards him. "Unfortunately, for us all."

"I have field reports I need to go over with you." Fury gestured to the thick folder on the table between them and Avery instantly thought of the first time they had done this song and dance. It hadn't gone particularly well, by her estimation, so she didn't have high hopes for how it was going to turn out the second time around.

"About me?"

"Among others."

"Tell me your account of the events of the Chitauri invasion." He opened the folder and took out a pen from his pocket, clicking it three times without looking away from her once. It was unnerving, just as he intended it to be, and made her instantly nervous.

She shifted in her spot and sat up, folding her hands together in her lap. "Same as everyone else, really."

"And Mr. Parker would agree?"

"We're talking about me," Avery snapped, feeling some of the tiredness wash off her as she leaned forward. "As far as I'm concerned, Peter Parker wasn't even there."

They held eye contact again for a solid minute, neither willing, it seemed, to break the silence. Fury seemed haggard. She could see that, now that she was staring at him. She didn't feel sorry for him. As she had expressed more times than she could count, she held very little sympathy in her heart for people who woke her up so early. She also hated him, but that was a petty emotion that she pushed down in favor of her more effective, less dramatic feelings of determination that would make sure she accomplished what she needed to.

And all before breakfast too.

"You're very protective of someone you just met. Why?"

Avery bristled. "Because I don't want him to end up like me."

"Like you?"

"A prisoner."

"Is that how it was?" Fury raised his eyebrows, tone bordering on mocking. "The way I see it, you had access to some of the most highly trained professionals in the world so that you could actually learn to use the gifts you have been given rather than pissing them away just like everything else."

"You need to work on your delivery."

"And you need to grow up."

Avery glowered at him. "I don't work for you anymore."

"Yet, here we are."

"Look, I understand I can do some pretty valuable shit. I get that, but that doesn't give your or anybody else the right to tell me what I can or can't do with my life."

Fury closed the folder, expressing a calmness that scared her. "Have you heard of A.I.M.?" She shook her head, unsure of where he was going. "The Hand? Ten Rings?"

"No."

"What about Russia?"

"Clearly."

"Every single one of them, and about a hundred other groups and governments just like them, would kill to have someone like you in their pocket."

"You've already told me."

"I thought I needed to say it again, considering how it still hasn't sunk into your thick skull. This wasn't a punishment or some kind of cosmic joke. This protected you just as much as it benefited me."

"I quit," Avery said, finding her voice after a moment. "It doesn't matter how you try and spin this."

"I'm not spinning anything." He sounded frustrated. "You can't quit a job you never had in the first place. I offered you help and training and you refused. You dug your heels in like a child and whined and complained about how unfair it was, or how inhumanely we were treating you while eating three square meals a day. "

"I don't eat breakfast," Avery said, without really thinking. It clearly didn't amuse Fury, but she didn't think much of anything did.

"I'm going to present a situation for you and I want you to tell me what you would do." Avery set back slightly, skepticism filling her chest. She was sure he was going to make her look like a fool, more than he already had in the last five months, but there wasn't much she could do about that, so she nodded and he continued. "Imagine you're thirsty while here in New York and you go to a small café to get something cold to drink. It's hot and there's a lot of people. You push your way through to the counter and bump into a man wearing a suit. You apologize and touch his arm. It's barely a millisecond, but it does the trick. He tells you that he works for a joint task force out of Moscow that deals with eastern European terrorists groups."

"I would walk away."

"Not an option. He's like Jane Foster and he realizes that you've taken something from him the moment it slips out of his mouth, something he can never get back."

"I…"

"He pulls you out of the café and into the side alley and holds a gun to your head, threatening to kill you if you don't tell him who you work for."

"No one."

"Wrong answer," He said sharply, forcing her to fight the desire to recoil visibly. "In that two second interaction you've laid waste to their entire security apparatus. You think he's just going to let you go? No, he would either kill you, or find a way to use you. For what? A drink. What happens if it's a bigger fish, someone like the secretary of state or the president? What if it's someone like me?"

"I wouldn't do that."

"You didn't know that Jane Foster was anybody and look what happened."

"That isn't my fault."

"It never is." Fury folded his arms over his chest and leaned back. "It wasn't your fault that Jane Foster told you about Thor, or that you can somehow cause Dr. Banner and Thor to manifest their abilities."

"If you hadn't kidnapped me…"

"Enough!" Fury snapped, standing up. Avery shrunk back, the chair scrapping across the floor violently. "You have the ability to steal nuclear launch codes if you want, determine whether or not Area 51 is real, reveal what actually happened on September 11."

"I didn…"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. exists exactly because people like you need to be kept in check. It's a bitter pill that you better get to swallowing."

Avery choked down the spit that had gathered in her mouth, hoping that her shaking wasn't visible. "All I've ever wanted was to be normal. To sit down next to someone and ask them how their day is going without finding out they're a pedophile, or a serial rapist, or some sick combination of the two."

"You aren't and you can't."

"What am I supposed to do?" Avery felt her eyes welling up against her will. She scrubbed them furiously, hating how her own emotions betrayed her. "Am I supposed to say sorry and report to work tomorrow at 9 am, like the last five months didn't happen?"

"No. Why do you think I'm here?" Avery's hands froze, fingers pausing as they pressed into her eyes. "An unhappy employee is an unproductive one. In your case, a lack of productivity leads to you discovering classified information."

"I think you should let me quit. Go our separate ways."

"We both know that was never going to happen. Do better."

"Tony offered me a job, well I asked him to offer me a job and he did. Same thing, really," Avery said, exhausted brain trying to keep up with the conversation. "And I want to take it."

"Doing what?"

"Human resources, probably. I don't know." Fury blinked, eyebrows raised. "I got it into my head that if I found another job, one with lawyers and shit, you wouldn't be able to make me disappear off the face of the earth like last time."

"What makes you think working for Stark is going to be any different than working for S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Well, I'll get paid, for one thing."

Fury nodded, looking back down at the folder on the table. He tapped his fingers on the cover, regarding her like he had a proverbial ace up his sleeve. She instantly felt more uncomfortable, like she had somehow said something stupid and wrong and had lost whatever edge she might have had. Fury still stood, but she did as well, trying to put them back on the same level. "We're paying you."

"Bullshit."

Fury opened the folder and pulled out a sheet of paper, sliding it towards her without so much as a face muscle moving. Avery, against her better judgement, felt her curiosity get the better of her. She grabbed it, flipping it over so she could scan it quickly. "That's," She paused, reading the number again just in case her mind had accidentally added a zero, or a few more, by mistake. It hadn't. "That's a lot of money."

"Consider it back pay."

"You're bribing me."

"No. I don't do that." Fury walked around the table and stood next to her, leaning against the edge with his arms crossed. She leaned back.

"Tony will pay me."

"For using your powers."

"He wouldn't make me do that," Avery protested, although she didn't really have much reason to think so. "If I'm going to use my powers, I might has well do it for a friend, rather than some faceless government organization."

"You're naïve, Gudrun, but not dumb. You know this isn't how this plays out."

"Then why don't you just tell me so we can just skip all this back and forth and we can go back to wishing the other didn't exist."

"I have a proposal."

"So do I," Avery fired back, reaching the end of her patience with the conversation. "You first."

"Right now only a handful of people know about you and what you can do. I intend to keep it that way, but it would be a lot easier if you met me halfway."

"What does that mean?"

"You continue to do what you've always done. You interrogate people and work on controlling and perfecting your abilities."

"That doesn't sound like meeting halfway," Avery snorted, sitting back down. She leaned back in her chair and peered up at him, lips drawn in a tight line. "That sounds like you getting exactly what you want. Here's my counter offer; I take the job at Stark Industries, whatever that may be, and, if you leave me alone most of the time, I might be willing to help you out occasionally. Maybe."

"That's hardly halfway either."

"What do you want from me?" Avery asked, frazzled energy dipping so low she almost couldn't hold onto it anymore. Dealing with Fury exhausted her, on even her best days, although it had been a long time since she had had one. "I've been thinking about this for months. You can't expect me to suddenly be okay with knowingly signing away my soul to you. At least before I could tell myself, if given the choice, I wouldn't even consider living in the same country as you, let alone working for you. Now, I don't even know."

"Once a month."

"What?"

"You come in once a month and the rest of your time is yours. You can work for Stark, or sit around doing nothing, or hell, you could move back to New Mexico for all I care. If I see you once a month in D.C. and you do exactly as I ask, no questions, I don't see why this can't work out for both of us."

Avery considered it for a moment, finding it hard to even consider agreeing to once a month. She looked at her fingers, observing the mottled bruising on the first three and sighed. She could tell Fury that she refused to work for him until she was blue in the face, it still wouldn't make a difference. "Once a month, three days max."

"Five."

"Four," Avery countered, shoulders pressed back, neck straight. "Travel expenses covered."

"Of cou…"

"And I want hazard pay for all the shit that happened with Loki."

"Fine."

Her January self hated her, but her May self couldn't help but feel slightly relieved. The truth of what Fury said resonated with her, even if she was loathe to admit it on principle alone. She wondered, fleetingly, how things would have gone if she hadn't dug her heels in when they first met, if she would have been able to control her powers by this point. She might even have known she had a second ability. It was probably the same thought process Fury had, perhaps even being the cause of the animosity between them. He had used the term gift, but she had never seen it that way. It was hard to see it that way when she was younger, but she could understand why others might see it that way.

"What would my status be?"

"Agent, officially."

"I could stay here?"

"You'll have to take that up with Stark. If he says no, your salary would easily cover a new place," He said, tone less hostile now that it seemed she was finally agreeing to his terms.

"I want this all in writing," Avery said after a moment of deliberation.

"Someone from legal will come by tomorrow. You'll need to come to headquarters to work out the specifics, but you can sign the contract."

"Why didn't you do this from the beginning?"

"I didn't trust you," He paused, tucking the folder underneath his chest. "I still don't. I do, however, know when it's time to stay the course and when a detour is necessary."

Avery bit her lip and studied his face one more time, letting the reality of what she just agreed to sink in. It hurt her pride more than anything. Deep in her gut, she knew that this was always how it was going to play out. It didn't make the sting of not fully getting away from S.H.I.E.L.D. any less poignant, but it did mitigate her feelings of complete ineptitude ever so slightly. Despite being told numerous times, it had never really occurred to her that S.H.I.E.L.D. might be doing more for her than she was doing for them, although she would never admit it out loud.

After all, how else would she have met Tony, Steve, and Peter if not for S.H.I.E.L.D. and their constant meddling.

She held out her hand, holding eye contact with Fury as he did the same.

"Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D.," He paused, a ghost of a smirk on his face. "Again."

How to Knit with Cat Hair and Other Fun Summer Activities

Avery smirked and grabbed the book off the shelf with a flourish. "Peter," She called, flipping open the book to the first page. He looked up from his book on programming and raised his eyebrows, glancing down at her hands. She held it up and shook it, already making up her mind to buy it. She didn't have a cat, but that was an easy problem to fix. New York had about a million stray cats that needed a home. It would be mutually beneficial. "I'm getting it."

"That's gross."

"Well, guess who's not getting a sweater," Avery said, tucking the book under her arm. "Did you find anything?"

"No. I already know all this stuff."

"I figured." Avery walked over to the shelf he had been perusing for over thirty minutes and looked over the titles on the spines herself. Nothing jumped out at her, but then again, she had no idea what she was supposed to be looking for. Peter seemed to be under the impression that, after being unable to agree on a plan of action while walking around Queens, after she had decided to go meet him rather than waiting for him to show up at the tower, like they'd discussed the day before, they would be able to find a book for all their hacking needs in the second hand book shop. Avery wasn't convinced. Incidentally, she also wasn't convinced this was the best plan they had come up with, but she thought Peter might figure that out on his own once the reality of what he wanted to do sunk in. Her reality, as it were, was that she didn't want to do something illegal.

She was still of the opinion that, given the right amount of time and persuasion, Peter might still decide to just let Gwen get the files.

"I did grab this for you," He said, pulling a thick, brightly colored book out from behind his back. Avery glanced down at the swirly letters and rolled her eyes. "What? I thought you would need to do some research."

"That's a picture book."

"It says it's a one stop shop for everything Norse." Peter shook the book, holding to out to her with a smirk. "I already checked. You aren't in here. Looks like you technically don't exist."

"I'll make sure to put that on my tombstone." She grabbed it and flipped open the front cover, leaning back to use the shelf behind her as a perch. She set down her cat hair book and propped her elbow up against the row of dusty books, running her finger down the list of names until she got to the 'fs'. "According to Thor, my mother's full name was Fulla."

Peter leaned on the shelf next to her, peering over her shoulder as she flipped to page about her mother. Or at least, she flipped to the page that was a about a woman who debatably shared the same name as her mother. She had told herself to keep an open mind, however, so she indulged herself by reading what the book said. She was greeted by a half page illustration of a blonde woman wearing a long white dress. A gold headband sat buried in her hair, the branch shapes dipping down to her temples like little fingers gripping at her skin. On her hands was a simple gold band and nothing else.

"She's pretty," Peter commented offhandedly, although she didn't pay attention to him. She looked at the woman closer, studying her features. She certainly didn't look like her mother, didn't have the same mischievousness in her eyes or the any hint of compassion that rolled off her mother in waves, but there was something about her that struck a chord in Avery. "This is her?"

"Yeah," Avery said quietly, eyes skimming the paragraph of text underneath the picture. "Kind of."

Peter scooted closer, bumping into her enough to cause her to look up and give him an annoyed look. She turned back to the book and her reading, finding herself more and more uncomfortable with each line she read until she finally closed it and set it down. "What?"

"Nothing," Avery said, brushing him off once again. She tucked the book underneath the other one, trying to be subtle and failing miserably. Peter raised an eyebrow but seemed to think better of questioning her, something that she was immensely thankful for. She scratched her temple and smoothed her hair down, clearing her throat. "Anyway, if you're not going to buy anything we should go."

"I'll meet you outside."

She glanced down, noticing that he was bouncing slightly. "There's a bathroom at the tower."

"I've been holding it all afternoon." He bounced a little quicker. "Go buy your book about cat hair."

He smiled cheekily and hurried off to the back of the store, slipping in between a disagreeable looking couple in the diet section with a quick apology that fell on deaf ears. The woman looked back at the direction he came from and glared at Avery, like it was somehow her fault, before huffing audibly as she turned her attention to her embittered husband. Avery pursed her lips and reached sideways, fingers touching the two books on the shelf.

She wasn't stupid. The internet existed. She didn't need some children's picture book to tell her about her mom. She needed it even less while Thor was still in town, but she couldn't deny that it gnawed at her in the most annoying way possible. She tucked it underneath the other book and held it to her chest. She glanced back at the bathroom one more time and pivoted around, stepped back with her right foot first. Instead of having a clear path to the register, she ran face first into someone, causing her books to fall to the floor between them.

"I'm so sorry," She said immediately, bending down to pick up the books she dropped without looking at who she bumped into.

"It was my fault," The man said, bending down as well.

Avery looked up and froze.

She always tried to not judge people by how they looked. It didn't do much good in her case, regardless, but she found it incredibly hard not to when she saw the thickly corded scar that ran across his chin and the sheer size of his shoulder muscles bulging out underneath his black t-shirt. She zeroed in on the scar, unable to look anywhere else as her hands paused halfway through picking up her books. It ran in a diagonal underneath his mouth, slightly red and irritated. His stubble only covered it slightly, adding to his overall demeanor. She blinked, realizing that she had been staring far longer than was even remotely polite, and blushed. "I, uh, should have looked before turning."

"Car accident."

"What?"

"When I ten." He gestured to the scar on his face with one finger, tracing along the length of it until she looked away, face beat red.

Full-body cringe didn't even begin to cover how embarrassed and mortified she felt. He smiled and stood up, taking her cat hair book with him. She followed him, inwardly balking at how much taller he was than her. Schooling her face, she smoothed her hair back. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It happens all the time." He smiled at her, although she didn't feel any less like an asshole. "I'm Jack, by the way."

"Avery." She held out her hand for him to shake. He looked down at it and didn't make any move to take her extended hand, instantly make the already uncomfortable encounter even more uncomfortable. She pulled her hand back and made a big show of stuffing it in her pocket, which only ended up making things worse. At that point, she didn't think there was much that could be done to save things, considering she had already put her foot, ankle, and entire leg in her mouth.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She could use her powers and really put her whole set of staggeringly stunted social skills on full display.

Her hand twitched in her pocket

Instead, he looked down at the book in his hand and read the title out loud, amusement in his voice that came across as extremely forced to Avery. "Knitting with cat hair?"

"I thought you were going to buy your books?" Avery felt her muscles relax ever so slightly when Peter came up behind her. "Hey, man."

Somehow, the encounter managed to become more awkward when Peter addressed Jack.

Jack stared at Peter, eyes narrowing ever so slightly before he looked back at Avery. "Here's your book. See you around."

He turned around and walked out of the bookstore, leaving behind Avery and Peter standing with matching expressions of confusion. Peter moved out from behind Avery, mouth slightly agape as he watched the back of Jack's head until it disappeared down the street. Avery held the book Jack handed back to her loosely, wondering if she was imagining that there was something off about him, or if her own tendency to over analyze was getting in the way and making her think that a perfectly normal thing was anything but. Somehow, she didn't think so.

"That was really weird," Peter said.

"I thought so too," She breathed out, relieved she wasn't the only one who thought something was off.

"Haven't you heard of stranger danger?"

"We've known each other all of 48 hours."

"Come on, we still haven't decided what we're going to do." Peter reminded her, clearly not as bothered by Jack.

Avery, stared at the door for a moment longer before she shook her head and stacked the books one on top of the other, fingers digging into the spine. "I don't know about you, but I've made the decision to take up knitting." Peter made a face as she continued, "And if you keep making fun of me, forget a sweater, you won't even get a tea cozy."

Peter rolled his eyes and took the books from her hands, walking towards the register so that she had no choice but to follow after him. The lone girl working at the store eyed the two books on the counter in front of her with raised eyebrows but rang them up without saying a word. "Honestly, I think you only came with me because you wanted to get out of the tower." Peter said, watching Avery as she counted out exact change from her finite funds.

"I thought that was pretty obvious." Avery smiled at the girl behind the counter and took her books. Peter took them and shoved them into his backpack, already on his way out the door. "Peter, wait!"

He waited for her outside the door, arms contorted to zip his backpack shut. "So, that was a total bust."

"I told you that from the very beginning."

"Yeah, I get it, it was a bad idea."

"Not bad, just a little misguided," Avery said, stepping back to allow a group of street cleaners to pass. "But I think we're all a bit guilty of that these days."

She pulled Peter back out of their way and settled back against the building, feeling the heat of the glass and stone seep through her clothes to make her back sweat. It was well past midday and brutally hot, but she didn't really mind. The heat was no more oppressive than her looping thoughts in the tower, the sun no more intrusive than Tony or Thor.

"Standing here doesn't help." Peter gestured to the building across the street, running his hand over his face as a bead of sweat rolled down from his hair. "At this point, we might as well walk inside and ask them for their employment files."

"You already said no to that."

"I said no to Gwen going that."

"We're going in circles, Peter." Avery folded her arms over her chest and tried to ignore the thin layer of sweat now coating her entire body. "I realize this is a bit of a pot and kettle scenario."

"So let's drop it," Peter snapped, surprising Avery at the forcefulness in his voice. She couldn't help but stare at him, even though that would probably make his bad mood, which had come seemingly out of nowhere, worse. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"That freaky, Jedi mind trick bullshit," He said, waving his fingers in the worst imitation of Obi-wan she had ever seen.

She pursed her lips. "I'm not. I am, however, starting to feel more inclined to use it the longer you keep acting so nasty."

He snorted. "Pot, kettle."

"Shut up."

"God, whats your problem? You've been pissy all day."

"Nothing," She said quickly, having successfully not thought about Fury since she walked out of the conference room. She wanted to keep it that way, for the time being. "I'm just tired."

"Why don't we go on a tour and sneak off once we're inside?"

"That's the plot to every heist movie ever."

"That doesn't mean it won't work."

"So you've given up on hacking?" Avery asked.

"I don't know. What does Steve think?" Peter's voice wavered slightly when he mentioned Steve, like he could hardly believe he was able to mention him in a sentence. Avery smiled, although she didn't linger on it.

"I haven't asked him."

"Why not?"

"I just haven't gotten to it."

"What could possibly be more important?"

Thinking about everything made her head throb. In theory, Peter was right. There wasn't anything more important than the missing samples at the moment. The Chitauri were dead, Loki was in prison, and, apparently, New York had avoided being decimated by a nuke. Part of her knew that this was simply the tip of the iceberg, but the other part, the more selfish, wanted to curl up in bed and not think about any of it. "I'll talk to him tonight, see what he thinks."

"I guess that's all we can do for now," Peter said. "Let's go get something to eat."

"Yeah, okay." She pushed herself off the building and stepped out further onto the sidewalk. "You can tell me what's actually going on with this whole Gwen thing while we walk."

"I'd rather talk about you being an alien."

"I've already told you as much as I know." Avery shook her head, deciding that she had already accomplished enough for one day in the personal problems department. If she tried to think about it all, her head would explode. "Come one, I know there's more to it. You said something about her dad?"

"Fine."

"Yay." Peter shot her a glare. "I mean, not yay we get to talk about your problems, but yay we're not talking about mine."

"You're buying." He stalked down the street, looking every bit the moody teenager for a moment.

"Deal."

Avery walked back into Stark Tower much later than she had anticipated. She felt like she was walking on deflating balloons that were making an obnoxious squeaking noise, making it almost impossible to sneak back in. She wasn't entirely sure why she was even trying to act like she hadn't been out all day, but there she was, tiptoeing like an idiot.

"Avery?" She sighed, looking down at her feet long enough to collect her thoughts, and paused, holding her books to her chest. "Are you okay?"

"Hey, Steve," She greeted, walking over to the table with plodding steps that were much more dramatic than the situation warranted. "Burning the midnight oil?"

"I got hungry," He said, gesturing to the two sandwiches and pile of chips on his plate. She pulled out the seat opposite him and sat down heavily, dropping her books on the table so she could rest her head on them.

"Can I have some chips?" She asked, mouth pressed against the cover. She heard the sound of the plate sliding towards her. She reached out her hand, probing until she found the salty chips, and took a few, suddenly ravenously hungry. "Thanks." She pushed the plate back towards him and propped herself up on her hand, ignoring the crumbs and salt.

"Fury filled us in on the deal you two came to."

"I feel like I sold my soul to the devil for a pair of tube socks and some pocket lint," She said, looking down at her hands. "But, it's okay. I'm tired of fighting. It doesn't solve anything."

"He said they're going to start paying you," He said, sounding slightly angrier than before. "I didn't know you weren't getting paid before."

Avery nodded, tapping her chin. "They better start, otherwise I just spent my last twenty on a book about cat hair and Norse mythology and buying dinner."

"Not in the same book."

"No, but that would make for an interesting read." Avery sat all the way up and handed him the book so he could look at it. "I'm thinking of starting off small. Maybe like a coaster or something."

"You don't have a cat," Steve said, flipping through the pages with an increasing look of amusement on his face. "This is really weird, Avery."

"It's for my free time." Steve seemed skeptical, but amused, and kept looking through the book. "Did free time not exist in the 40s?" Steve smiled, closing the book and handing it back to her.

"No, not really." Avery couldn't tell if she was allowed to smile or not. She felt a laugh bubbling up and she tried to fight it, covering her mouth with her hand so that he wouldn't think she was making fun of him. "It's alright, you can laugh."

She snorted. "I'm sorry," She said, having a harder time controlling her desire to laugh. Steve stared at her, straight-faced and stoic, for a moment until he smiled and chuckled, head dipping slightly. She laughed harder, snorting more violently, as embarrassing as that was, and gave up trying to cover it up after she started to feel like she was going to choke. "I'm sorry. It's really not funny."

"It's really not," Steve agreed, laughing harder. It went on for a solid five minutes, each of them egging the other on until they were red in the face. Avery wiped her eyes, sucking in a few shaky gulps of air, feeling like she was coming down from something more robust than laughing at nothing. "I haven't laughed this hard in a long time."

"And I wasn't even trying. Imagine how hard you'll laugh when I actually tell you a joke." She sat back, biting her lip to keep from looking too much like a maniac. She stretched her arms back behind her head, wincing when her shoulder and ribs pulled, and settled more comfortably in her seat. "I went to see Peter."

"How is he?"

"He wants to know what you think of Oscorp."

"To be honest, I don't know."

"I don't either. He's really fixated on it," She said.

"That sounds familiar." He gave her a significant look.

"I was a whiny brat for a solid five months, I think he's entitled to a few days of obsession," She paused, snaking a few more chips off his plate. "Besides, it's more personal than that."

"It's about Gwen."

She nodded, deciding not to elaborate further. If Peter wanted to tell Steve, he would. "Anyway, right now the best plan we've got is a plot device from National Treasure, so any suggestions would be helpful."

"Is that a movie?"

"Staring the great American thespian and all around weird dude, Nicolas Cage. Now that I think about it, you would love it."

"I'll add it to the list of things I need to catch up on."

"You should write it down," She mused, now stealing chips steadily. She was tempted to swipe a sandwich, but decided to refrain. "Whenever someone mentions something you don't know about, put it on a list so you can learn about it later."

"That's a good idea."

"Ive been know to have them occasionally." She gestured to the cat book once again, smirking. "Who's that?" She pointed at the picture on the table next to his elbow, noticing it for the first time, and turned her head so she could get a better look at it. It was a woman, a pretty one from what she could see, in black and white. She regretted asking as she thought about who that woman could be, about how she had probably existed for him in his life before. "God, I'm sorry. Again. I shouldn't have asked that."

"No, its fine." Steve picked up the picture and glanced at it, a look of pained longing flashing, before he handed it across the table to her. "Her name is Peggy."

Peggy suited her. She was probably top five prettiest people Avery had ever seen. Maybe top three, if she kicked her mother to the curb. "She's beautiful. How'd you meet, if you don't mind me being nosy?"

He seemed to debate for a moment and she felt instantly terrible. "She worked for the SSR."

"Pretty and badass," Avery mused, looking at the picture closer. "Is she still," She paused, wondering how he would take the question, if she should even ask it in the first place. "I'm not trying to be an asshole, I swear."

"She's still alive."

Steve was clearly upset. "You know, I just realized, that I was going to try and find a cat tonight, if you wanted to come with me," She said, trying to change the subject without being too obvious about it. Steve saw right through her, but seemed thankful for the fact the conversation was moving in a different direction. Avery handed the picture back to him, saying nothing about the number written on the back or how it looked like he kept it with him. "Peter thinks I'm angling to get scabies or something, but I think the best place to look is by the subway platforms."

"You want to adopt a subway cat and use its fur to make a coaster?"

"I had weird interests as a kid that I never grew out of. So, are you in? Sir Isaac Mewton awaits." She waggled her eyebrows at him, thankful that his morose mood started dissipating.

She didn't particularly blame him, although she didn't know what to say to make him feel better. And she wanted to. Avery had only been this miserable when she was thirteen and her mom died. She didn't want anyone else to feel like she did, although she had the distinct impression that it was a team characteristic rather than something exclusive to her.

"Sir Isaac Mewton," Steve repeated, tucking the picture back in his pocket.

"I also have Butch Catsidy and the Sundance Cat, the Great Catsby, or Chairman Meow."

"All excellent options."

"I'll have to wait and see. I obviously can't name a girl cat Chairman Meow. Although it would be an interesting gender experiment. Anyway, I haven't slept in like, I actually don't know how long."

"So let's go tomorrow, in the light of day."

"It's only fun if we run the risk of accidentally bringing back a subway rat."

"You're right, I didn't think of that." He wasn't mocking her, but there was a large amount of amusement in his voice that made her smile.

She stood up and grabbed her books, leaning back to put her weight on her heels as she pushed in her chair. "So, I'm going to go drop these off and I'll meet you back here." He nodded, causing her to smile wider to herself as she felt her spirits lift ever so slightly.

"Avery," He said, standing up from the table. He looked like he was going to say something else for a moment but thought better of it at the last minute. "Never mind." He smiled at her again and she felt her chest constrict ever so slightly. She turned around and stepped into the elevator, fighting the slight blush on her cheeks, already knowing that, if he kept smiling at her like that, it was going to be a problem.