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Avengers Tower, Midtown Manhattan, New York City, New York, December 26, 2012

Author's Notes: The finale of Season II is here, in which I will leave you with a present; the beginning of Season III of Jennifer Walters; Avenger-at-Law. After ripping your heart out with a concept that might make you cry.

Until then, true believers, Happy New Year and Ad Astra!


Jennifer Susan Walters, Chief Executive Officer of Avengers, Inc., The Avengers Foundation, and the only person on the planet able to claim to have brought down and killed a monster of legendary qualities was now going face-to-face with something potentially worse; a pissy demigod.

Loki Odinson, the God of Mischief and Shadows, sat on the other side of her desk with a perpetually bored look upon his face.

"Your Highness," Jenn began, remembering that, despite it all, this was the son of a King, after all, "I know these past several days have been hectic with the battle and its aftermath, not to mention my own recovery from my fight, so I haven't had a real chance to sit down and talk with you." No surprise, Loki looked as if he would rather be anywhere else but there. But the problem was that he had few places he could go, not to mention little understand of how things worked on Midgard. The last thing the lawyer wanted to see was Loki trotting about the world like a Greek God of old, causing mayhem in any direction he chose. No, actually the last thing she wanted to see was a host of idiotic women lining up to sleep with a living demigod to bare his offspring or spout about their deeds all over social media. Chaos seemed the lesser evil considering some of the stories about Zeus and his views toward fidelity. "First, I would like to say that I do appreciate your aid in our time of need during the HYDRA Uprising. While that doesn't necessarily negate what you did the last time you visited our planet, that does buy you some leeway and consideration. There is also the fact that your eyes are brown instead of blue. Knowing of the Scepter and what it can do, it seems that you weren't exactly in control of your actions or your situation. There are court cases pertaining to the legality of duress and being forced to do things against one's will." That had the God scoff. "Is something funny?"

"You seem to possess a modicum amount of charity and mercy. Something lacking in the Halls of Asgard." Loki replied, his tone both curt and snide. Not at her, Jenn surmised.

"Can I make an observation?" The lawyer asked, seeing Loki merely tut at the question. "I've heard of the legends and stories of you, Your Highness. A Prince of two Realms, is this not so?" The immortal brown eyes of the man in front of her turned to Jenn, not at all looking pleased. "I cannot speak of either one of your fathers or the things that they have done, but as a woman who has taken in four children, I can see things from that side of things. Something that the younger version of yourself might have missed being raised by the Allfather."

"Oh? And in your compassionate mortal wisdom, what do you have to offer to me?" The sneer was laced with sarcasm and scorn, most certainly an old hatred there that lingered and festered.

"You were given a second chance. Who was it that asked for it?" Jenn was pretty sure she knew the answer. But the answer wasn't for her.

"Frigga."

"The Allmother. Your mother." Jennifer replied, seeing those brown eyes flash again. Oh, being a lawyer had taught her well about psychology, and Loki was no exception. He thought himself clever, glib, snide, and subtle. Yet his face was mixed between a mask of sly cruel joy and bitter buried pain, like the drama mask of the thespians. Loki wasn't nearly as mysterious as he thought he was, a creature of personality, wants, and needs, just like everyone else. Raised definitely, to be sure, the whole Nature vs. Nurture argument personified, but he was different from his Asgardian kin. Thor, Lady Sifjar, Volstagg, and Fanadel seemed to all be made from the same cloth; large, loud, boisterous, passionate, and proned to accidentally breaking poor Midgardian furniture. In contrast, the one called Hogun the Grim was a quiet man, not nearly so mightily large (still pretty damn big, thought) that Jenn had been told was actually a fucking Elf (no pointed ears, but from Vanaheim where the Elves lives, evidently). Hogun was a man/elf of few words, not nearly so brash as his fellow Royal Guardsmen, and had a great deal of wisdom and intelligence to him. Likewise, Loki, son of Laufrey and a Jotun (evidently he was a small Frost Giant), was different from his brother. That none of the Asgardians seemed to have noticed the major difference in personalities (not to mention Loki was about half their muscle mass) was striking; it was literally the first thing that Jenn noted.

"I imagine," Jenn continued, "that, boys being boys, you and Thor probably competed for attention like all siblings do." There was a subtle twitch to Loki's mouth, meaning Jenn wasn't wrong. "But my question is this, your Highness; did Frigga Allmother ever make it a competition between the both of you? Not your perception of it, what she said and did."

That made Loki pause. And actually think before talking.

"She cherished me." The dark-haired demigod replied finally, his face troubled. "And… there were many times that that she took me in both confidence and schooling, more so than Thor." Loki was, strangely enough, in need of some counseling. Jenn briefly wondered what psychologist wanted that list of trauma. "After our fight with the Svartelfarians," another race of Elves, Dark Elves for all the World of Warcraft-types to squeal over, "Thor was intent to aid Midgard in their time of need. Heimdallr had heard your request upon the ground, and foresaw troubling times if that group had succeeded. My… my mother asked to stand for Midgard. I chose to do so."

Her daughter, Jessica Drew, alluded to this before. The thought of it was still a reeling one in Jenn's mind. But she suspected that this fight with the Dark Elves to regain some sort of strange artifact they wanted to destroy things contained Loki fighting for Asgard's' behalf. The other Asgardians had spoken of the battle in blusterous tones, because evidently clubbing, stabbing, maiming, and butchering enemies in war was a past time in Asgard (honestly… no surprises there), and Jenn had learned that Asgard itself had been invaded by space elves seeking to kill all who lived in the Realm Eternal. It sounded as if there had been significant losses in the process and a great deal of damage. And then Thor had taken his Honor Guard (and brother) and used the Bifrost to fight once more on Midgard while the Avengers were fighting HYDRA. It was heady stuff.

"I take it there is more to it than just fighting for us in a time of need." Jenn knew a good deal more of Norse Mythology (which served nicely as The Idiot's Guide To Living Viking Gods) but also more current events. Thor had been banished to Earth, hammerless and without his… Godly powers, for nearly starting an actual war with the Realm of Jotenheim after a couple of Frost Giant Agents slipped into Asgard unseen and made their way into what the Avengers referred to as The Allfather's Vault of Dangerous Shit to grab some mystical/magical item to cause untold amounts of destruction. Several Asgardians had died from that intrusion, and Thor had been apoplectic, demanding to go right to the heart of Frost Giant Country demanding answers and promising vengeance while Odin was going to let it slide, evidently. Jenn actually sided with Thor on the thought of response (if not the complete level of it), an attempt of power and war that had been thwarted once should have brought repercussions at the very least, and some sort of sanctions as well. If another nation had went for a portion of America's nuclear arsenal, there would be hell to pay, failure or not. The invasion of Afghanistan in October and November of 2001 had been a response due to September Eleventh when the Afghan Government refused to turn over the Al Queda terrorist organization, electing to support and house its members in their national borders. Thus, the invasion. Even the pacifist in Jenn knew there was a big difference between finding ways to solve a fight without fighting and just choosing not to fight at all.

"Did Thor tell you?" There was that sardonic smile. Jenn was reminded once more of the difference between the golden-haired brother and the raven-haired one. Thor thought the absolute world of Loki, defending his brother's character and honor despite it all. Loki practically despised his elder brother despite that obvious act of endearment. It was strange, seeing a warrior of strength and courage praising his brother for his cleverness, his intuition, his intelligence, and his mystical ways of magic. And Loki called Thor a buffoon? Loki might be more clever, but he certainly had his own failing, too.

"No, I figured it out on my own." Thor had threatened a Realm with war… and had been exiled to Earth as a mortal. Loki had done more than threatened it… and here he was on Earth. Jenn could put two-and-two together. "How long is your exile to Midgard, Your Highness?" Jenn had a nasty suspicion what that sentence might be. Thor's had been until he had proved himself worthy once more. That had taken a grand total of a week or so. She didn't think they would be so lucky with Thor's little brother. Please don't say 'worthy', Walters thought to herself.

Loki was silent for a moment until he looked at her.

"The Allfather has written to you, and only you, with the details of my parole." He pulled out from his green mantle coat a heavy parchment that Jenn recognized the look of; it was the same style that she had received when Odin had given her a chest full of perfect-quality and perfect-clarity diamonds. The lawyer took the letter with her left hand and opened it, cracking open the wax seal that bore a great tree on its surface (likely an allusion to the legend of Odin hanging himself from Yggdrasil for wisdom) before unfolding it and doing her best to read the flowing calligraphy penned upon the heavy parchment.

Lady Jennifer, Daughter of Morris,

It has come to my attention through both my wife and my eldest son that I have judged too quickly in certain regards not only for myself and my family, but for the Realms I have sworn to uphold and defend. When I sentenced Thor to exile upon Midgard due to his decision to defy my and travel to Jotenheim and nearly started a war, this was done out of anger. While I had wished to teach my son humility and honor, the way I did so was unfit and in complete disregard for a man of my duty and station, and it very nearly cost my son his life. Just because it worked out well in the end does not mean that my decision was well-founded, and I had certainly not thought of Midgard or the repercussions when I sent Thor.

When he returned to me from the Realm of Mortals, he spoke of them in a tone I hadn't expected; he had found friends, he had seen Midgardian courage, he had tasted a sliver of your culture and cuisine and found a people there that he wished to know more of. I admit that I have been lapse in my attention towards Midgard due to several events pertaining to other Realms and Yggdrasil, but that does do give me excuse to shirk my duties especially when mortals once marched at our side in war to fight the Jotun threat during the War of Eternal Winter. It surprised me to learn that there are mortals that still speak of our names in remembrance, and I was heartened to hear that his time on Midgard was not wasted. Despite my poor judgment, Thor benefited with his time on Midgard, and what I hope he would learn had been taught to him by those we once stood alongside in war.

When my sons returned to me after the Chitauri attack upon the Midgardian City of New York, Thor beseeched me several times on his brothers behalf, for I had sentenced him to our prison for his crimes. I investigated the claims and tales that Thor spoke to me, and I was deeply troubled by what I discovered. Though Loki spoke very little to me, and what words he had were curt and short, he did admit that another had brought in him, tortured him, and forced upon him some form of control that even today I fear has changed the man I had raised as a child. I will fully admit that I had made mistakes as a father, but as I am sure that you are fully aware being a mother yourself, we do our best to raise our children in the ways that we see as fit and well, but sometimes may not be agreed upon by the child in question. I had kept Loki's true lineage from him as I wished for him to see himself as a Son of Asgard, and I still cannot find fault in this for I raised him alongside my own son with no differences in attention or devotion. Thor reminded me of this as well as his own punishment when he disobeyed me. I listened to my wife's counsel upon this regard and I realized that what I wanted most was to see my son regain his own sense of honor, but he would never be able to do that sentence to a cell. Since he has expressed no end of loathing towards me, the Allmother Frigga was the one to ask him to come to Midgard's aid not only in battle, but for the foreseeable future.

Jenn had a pretty bad feeling about this.

Lady Jennifer, as you are no doubt aware of the crimes my son has committed upon your people and the city in which you live in, I leave him in your custody and care. To earn his place back upon Asgard and with his family, I also leave that determination to you, to see fit that he repays for his crimes upon your Realm. As a part of his exile, I have bereft of him as I did Thor, leaving him with his wit and will to contend with his parole and any consequences of his actions. His Nornforce, much of his magic, and his divinity has been disinherited from him, though he is biologically an opponent of incredible strength, durability, and longevity still. To keep him from using his name or his wiles to shirk from his responsibilities, I have placed a curse upon him so that only those that saw him the day he left for Asgard will recognize him for who he is. The rest of Midgard will know of Loki and his features, but will not make the connection, and anyone outside of those I have allowed will not believe him to be the same Loki who initiated the events that attacked Midgard. If you wish of it, he will battle along your side with little repercussion of worry that you have sided with an enemy if that is what concerns you. Only two dozen people on Midgard will know him for who he is, and Midgardian prosecution will likely be impossible without proper identification and recognition in your court.

I know this is a trial, yet you have earned my respect in your dedication for your people, Lady Jennifer. I leave to you my son, and as one parent to another, I ask that you look after him well, regardless of his deeds and our duties. As a King and as a father, I thank you.

Odin, Son of Bor

Jennifer sighed as she finished reading the letter and then looked over to her visitor. She was now officially the babysitter to a failed conquerer.

"I assume you've read this or at least now the details?" The lawyer asked her brand-new headache in the form of a demigod.

"I was there when the Allfather sentenced me." Again, no lost love there. "So what would you have me do? Play your pet? Feed you morsels? Come every time you crook your finger?" Loki's tone was almost neon acidic, and it made Jenn realize something harrowing.

She was pretty damn certain that Loki was more or less forced to obey her command as a condition of his parole. If he ever wanted to leave Earth, he would have to answer to her.

"There are two things I'd like to know before you retire for the evening, your Highness. Neither one of them will be pretty." The lawyer replied after a long moment of thought. She didn't trust the demigod at all, but if she were stuck with him, then he would have to make himself useful. "First? I want to know as much as you do about the Scepter. What it is, what it can do, everything that can help us locate it and retrieve it before it does more damage than it already has." Loki tsk'ed at that, obviously not a subject he was fond of. Well, fuck him. He brought the damn thing to Earth and went and lost it.

Jenn was still pissed that the Avengers had handed the damn thing over right to SHIELD with a smile and a song. It was way too late to cry over that spilled milk, knowing that the team had thought SHIELD would secure it properly. Like the Tesseract that had been stolen twice and required beings of extraordinary means to recover. Not that the Avengers had known that, but Jenn would have thought Director Nick Fury would have put his hand on the damn thing himself and bury it in the Mariana Trench or somewhere else just as pleasant. Oh, she got it; the goon squad that had taken it were the best of the best that SHIELD had, and it had gone right into some SHIELD facility for God knows what kind of testing and analysis. Next dangerous artifact that came into their possession? She was going to shove it into the hottest furnace Earth had and liquefy it. Mankind had hardly been responsible with atomic or nuclear power; it didn't need something worse in its grasp.

"And the second thing?" Loki wasn't nearly so snide now. Jenn was pretty sure he knew what the second question was going to pertain to.

"I want to know the name of the cocksucker that put that Scepter in your hand and sent you to Earth to collect the Tesseract."


Hero's Hill, Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington, Virginia, December 28, 2012

Kamala Aisha Khan found herself standing in front of a sitting audience wearing chiefly black as she stood before a podium in a somber dress as she looked at the notes in her hand. Her courage fled her for a moment as she gulped, seeing hundred sitting in front of her as she found herself looking to her right, where two enlarged photographs and ornate long wooden boxes rested above two pre-dug holes. The cemetery she was in was nationally-famous; iconic, really. Donated by its original owner when he returned to war to find his family's land turned into an impromptu burial ground, General Robert Edward Lee had declared that the site to be used for soldiers and those who had fought for their nation, considering that men from two nations had been buried there after battle. Arlington was the National Cemetery, and one could find Soldiers, Sailors, Marines, and Airmen from wars and conflicts from the American Civil War to that very day. Yet amongst those buried there, there was a spot reserved for the most elite of them, men who were hailed to be the epitome of their kind, even amongst those called the Greatest Generation.

Hero's Hill; where the legendary Howling Commandos were laid to rest.

Kamala looked upon the white granite gravestones that were there, and on any other day she would have been amused to see the gravestones of Rogers, Steven Rogers and Barnes, James Buchanan there amongst seven others baring the names Jones, Gabriel; Falsworth, James Montgomery; Morita, James; Dernier, Jacques; Juniper, Johnathan Junior; Sawyer, Samuel; and Pinkerton, Percival. Both Cap and Bucky had visited earlier along with Tim 'Dum-Dum' Dugan and Margaret 'Peggy' Carter, the last of that legendary unit paying their respects to those who had fallen before them… both past and present. The young woman had no idea who Jennifer Walters had pressured, conned, or had their arm twisted, but today two more men would be added to that illustrious group, two more heroic defenders who had given their lives for their country in a way as to say that their contributions were beyond the call of duty and valor. Against the same enemy, no less.

It was the funeral for Lieutenant Commander Nathanial Troy Dugan and Edward Joseph Snowden, to be buried alongside men whom it was said to have saved the very world itself through dauntless courage, skill, and audacity. Kamala stood upon Hero's Hill, a podium with a small microphone in front of her in front of what appeared to be a thousand people (Hope had told her it was limited to a thousand), dressed in somber clothes and sitting on white chairs on picturesque green grass in the cold December chilled air. Kamala could see all those people look at her as she looked to her left, where two flag-draped coffins rested.

She had been asked to speak; she had been asked to deliver their eulogies.

She had buried her parents the day prior, and now this. She wasn't sure she could do it, but looking at the photographs, at the caskets, Kamala would. For them.

"I first met Nate at the Tower, in a conference room with Sam and Rhodey." Kamala began, her voice a little weak, a little unsure as she remembered that day. "I had been interning with the science team and had been given positive reviews, so Jenn had wanted to see how far I could go. So I found myself at a table with an Air Force Test Pilot who also piloted the War Machine suit, an Air Force Pararescueman, and a Navy SEAL. I was… painfully aware that I was a fifteen year-old kid and a Muslim amongst those who had served in the military for a least a decade, and had no doubt deployed to the Middle East a few times at least, and I was nervous. Even scared." The young woman found herself looking at the front row, where a woman and two children sat next to a line of extended family members. "Nate was the first to talk to me, figured me to be a prodigy and wanted to see what I could do. I could tell he was intrigued, seeing a teenager amongst elite warriors, and… we struck it off. Probably the most unusual pairing ever, but Nate was… just this guy who had gotten to the very top of where a soldier could go but had this friendly humility about him, like it happened by accident somehow. Even amongst the other Avengers, he just fit so comfortably, like he was that one puzzle piece that made it all work together. Of all the suits and powers and magical hammers, you had this really down-to-earth guy who you knew you could count on, that he would have your back no matter what. I… I use to joke and call us Avengers 2.0, Nate, Sam and I being younger than the others. He went and got me a sippy cup one day, so I went and got him a swear jar as a joke. He literally carried it around all day and called it the Miss Marvel College Fund. Even put change into it." She had to shut her eyes to keep the hot tears from flowing as she bit back a sob, that casket looming too large in her minds' eye.

"I remember… talking to him one day when I was doing my weekend internship, and I guess I must of mentioned something about… about being bullied." Kamala found herself looking at a little boy and girl who sat at the front row, clutching the woman dressed in black between them. "Nate told me that he was bullied in High School, too. I remember how shocked I was that this Navy SEAL was bullied. I mean, even his forearms were ripped and had a six-pack on them." There was a light chuckle from the crowd. "He told me something… inspirational. Nate said he was grateful for those bullies because what they taught him was how he would deal with adversity and difficulties, if he would crumple to them or if he would rise above them. He said that all great mountaineers, pioneers, and explorers started off on small obstacles to learn who they were and what they could do before they went and conquered the big things, little mountains before big mountains. He told me if he hadn't had that competition, that adversity, that pressure, he might have never found out who he was, how far he could go. And… it made sense. You knew you could believe in him because he believed in himself, and he let that take him not only where he wanted to be, but where we needed him to be. When the world asked more out of him, he never faltered; he already knew how far he could go." Kamala had to shut her eyes to stem the tears, knowing that Mongoose had died defending his nation as well as those he served alongside and his loved ones. He had died shouting defiance at the enemy, striking a mortal blow at the cost of his life without regret or fear. She remembered distinctly the last things they they had told one another; she had jokingly told him that she was going to make the Halloween costume based on him, and he had returned with how he was going to make the plushy toy based off of her.

"Nate didn't have powers. He didn't need them." Kamala said with a small smile, remembering the man who had completely impressed her. "It wasn't just skill or competence that he brought, though he certainly did that. It wasn't just years of experience or wisdom that he had, those he certainly had those. No, Nate was a believer; what he had was faith." Kamala was completely off-script for what she was going to say, but she was going to anyhow. She could see the attendees shift a little, the audience probably uncomfortable with the mention of faith, especially from a Muslim. Oh well, this wasn't for them. "Nate believed in a better world, fought for one for years before Miss Walters found amongst the others in the SEALs and chose him. He had faith, belief, and devotion at his side; he knew just how far he could go, and going too far didn't scare him because he knew he was fighting for the right reasons, believed in the right things, had faith in the right ideals. He was devoted to his family, to his friends, and to his country. He believed in his nation, its ideals, and its way of life. He had faith that there would be someone else to carry on that torch when he could no longer carry it." Kamala found herself looking to the front row where the Dugan Family sat; Timothy Cadwaller 'Dum-Dum' Dugan sat next to his sons, one of those sons, Steven Dugan, was Nate's father. He was holding the woman next to him, his wife and Nate's mother, her eyes red with tears while his face was a mask, holding strong despite his loss. Dum-Dum's other son, James Dugan, was holding onto a black-veiled woman half his age; Nate's wife Diane. Beside her were a little boy and a little girl, Michael and Claire, ages nine and seven; Nate's son and daughter. "I've known many a great man and woman, and your father stood tall and proud amongst them as an equal in an Age of Heroes.

"Edward," Kamala found herself looking to the front row of the other aisle, where two older people sat, "Edward I met on a plane, a scared young woman fleeing for her life. When I had gotten aboard, I met a man whom I was told had went whistleblower against the government for many infractions against the Constitution in cases of illegal net-tapping the American public. The more heard, the more I was impressed with the thought that this everyday man had knowingly and willingly endangered his name and his life for what he thought was the right thing, to make it known to the public that there were computer programs that were monitoring all they said and did and being kept without any kind of knowledge or oversight. It was Edward Snowden who discovered who was behind these obtrusive programs, who found out who was really behind the invasive watchdog programs that were aimed right at the American people for surveillance and targeting. We ended up working together at first, the computer guru and the tech prodigy, and within those first few hours… I had found more than just a friend. Edward was former Army Special Forces and CIA, working with the NSA for cyber defense and security, but he was more than that. He was a patriot, a man who believed in the ideals of his country and was willing to risk his freedom and his life to right a wrong no one else was aware of. He was committed into stopping what he had discovered, a normal man taking on something much larger than he without qualm. I worked at his side, I learned at his side, someone who had risen to the top of his profession in his own right and his own way, becoming one of the most dangerous men in the world when you put him behind a laptop.

"But what I learned from him was that no matter who you are, what you are, where you come from, or where that road took you, you had a responsibility. To yourself as well as others." Kamala found herself looking at Edward's parents, seeing them holding themselves together at their sons' funeral. "Edward was a great man that I'm proud to call friend and teacher, someone that I could look up to in our time of need, someone that I could trust in our time of struggle. And…" She had to close her eyes for the next bit, the part that no one outside of the Avengers knew, "he gave his life for me. They had sent someone to kill me for doing so much against HYDRA that they sent a man to end my life. Edward… he took my place." Her eyes grew hot with tears, remembering Edward leaning back in his chair with a gunshot wound to his chest. "There was never a moment of doubt or fear in him, knowing what was going to happen but never swaying. He was strong, proud, and defiant to the very end, fought and defeated the enemy that sought to silence us all. I'm proud to have known him, to have worked at his side, and his last words were… were that he believed in me." Kamala felt a gentle hand on her shoulder as she looked to her right to see Jennifer Walters standing there, smiling at her with a comforting hand on her shoulder. She turned once more to look at those flag-draped coffins resting above the plots that had already been dug, knowing that soon they would be gone.

"Goodbye, my friends. I'll never forget you, and I will see you once more."


Avengers Tower, Midtown Manhattan, New York City, New York, December 29, 2012

Anthony Edward 'Tony' Stark stood upon the outside pavilion of Avengers Tower, where the semi-circular platform exited the eighty-eighth floor as an observatory or a landing pad as he waited for someone to come out. He had gotten a discrete text for him to meet someone out here way from prying eyes and ears, and he had a pretty good guess who. He didn't have to wait long to see a bundled Jennifer Walters exiting the building to head outside, limping along with a roller to rest her broken right leg on, doing a couple of hours out of her chair for physical therapy as well as her own need not to be stapled to a wheelchair. The jacket she wore had a long slit carved into its seem with Velcro added so she could put her right arm in without her external brace getting caught on anything while being able to cover her arm (and cast for her forearm) to keep warm. She joked about being a few hundred thousand dollars short of being the Bionic Woman, but it had been a close call. She had almost lost her hand, and no one knew for sure if she would retain full mobility and use of it. No one spoke about that around her, though, knowing what the CEO had done; gone face-to-face with a titan of destruction single-handedly and come out on top. Jenn rolled over to him as he stood by the railing of the platform, overlooking the mass majority of Manhattan and beyond.

"You know, I hope I never get bored of this view."

Tony looked over to the taller woman as she rested against the railing, looking over New York City. He had an idea what the private conversation might be about.

"When I first came here," the lawyer continued, "I remember seeing the mess, all the construction and shoring efforts to prevent and future collapses or damages where the Chitauri ran amok. First time I had ever been to New York City, this place we've all seen on TV and movies, and all I could see were the damages and holes that were made, the effort needed to fix it." Tony let her talk, not a normal position for him by any stretch of the imagination. But Jenn was different; drivel didn't come out whenever she talked. "I saw a people in need, a city in sorrow, trying to recover from a calamity that besieged them. I know that the Government tried to help, but it seemed like most of the politicians were interested in talking, chest-thumping, and putting themselves in front of a camera. I didn't see one of them rolling up their sleeves and helping. I didn't hear of any of them donating from their own personal money into recovery and rebuilding efforts. I didn't see one of them visiting hospitals to visit their people without a camera and some shit propo with a political agenda attached to it. Not like you guys did after the Battle."

Yeah, Stark had a pretty good idea what this was about.

"Does this have anything to do with the visit to the hospital?" Kamala had been pretty elated that the President of the United States had visited Jenn in the hospital, but didn't have any details about the nature of the visit. Jessica Drew had been there too, but hadn't been told, either. Jess had been pretty sure that her Mom was keeping whatever that visit was under wraps for the time being because there was something about it that she was processing. Something big, and likely personal.

"The President asked me to stand-in as the Vice President."

Yeah, Tony had guessed right. Damn it.

"I'm trying to imagine an underaged bleeding-heart Republican pacifist in that position." Tony said with a smirk, knowing Jenn's opinion on most things. That the President was seeking a Republican for the Vice Presidency was unique, but he could see the byplay. More unilateral partisanship, less bickering, and certainly putting a person who would be second-in-line that would have the enemy (whoever that might be at the time) a little more leery at the thought of doing something drastic. Most Vice Presidents were fairly unknown quantities even within their respective spheres, usually picked for votes for whatever state they represented. Picking someone that was pretty damn well-known was certainly a change, and no one was doubting the things Jenn had done in the past, a fighter through-and-through. And not to be subtle about it, but having another woman in the White House would earn brownie points. Having one as the Vice President? That said things without words. "So what's on your mind, Jenn? I doubt we'd be out here in the cold if you had made up your mind."

"I have made up my mind, I just… want to make sure I made it for the right reasons. Not personal, not selfish, not for power or any of that." The lawyer replied, surprising Tony a little.

"And you came to me? I'm flattered. And also doubting your sanity." That had Walters chuckle a little, but then she sobered up.

"Look at all this, Tony." Jenn's left hand waived in front of her, to where Manhattan laid before them like a carpet, Brooklyn to their right, Jersey to their left. "Look at all we've accomplished as a people. This was a Dutch colony of farmers scratching a living by Battery Park and Wall Street was, in fact, an actual wall." That had Stark snort a little. It was true, though. "Some days it seems so ludicrously insane that this all works, that millions of people live within a few scant square miles, stuffed like sardines, day after day. People are born here, they're raised here, they go to school here, get jobs, get married, have kids, grow old, joke about retiring, and finally pass away while succeeding generations continue on. People want to be here because this city is a symbol, it's a showcase of all that we've done, all we can do, and the promise of more. There's just something special about it here that makes this city America; it's melting pot of ethnicities, its Burroughs and their own cultures, the very way of life that you really can't find anywhere else. The City That Never Sleeps, and yet we do sleep for the dream to see what tomorrow will bring."

"Probably should write that down. Pretty good stuff." Tony quipped.

"Vice President? Me?" Jenn scoffed as she turned slightly to look at him. "Name one thing a Vice President has ever done. It's literally the most useless position in all of DC! The lowest clerk for a junior Representative has more clout!" Tony didn't interrupt. "I don't doubt that every Presidential Candidate picked some party patsy for votes and promised them that it would be different, that they wouldn't be shoved into a dresser somewhere and told not to drink all the booze. And then they get put into some tiny little office in the East Wing and dusted occasionally after they take the Veep's pulse to make sure they didn't drown themselves for entertainment value." Ouch. "I agree to this? I move to DC and get a hundred thousand dollar a year job where the description reads 'sit on my fucking hands and stay invisible'. Oh, I get to go to the political rallies and the posh parties that the President doesn't want to attend and the First Lady opts out of. I could have done the political thing back in Tinseltown with all the big-ass businesses and corporations strangling LA, or gone right for Hollywood or some political action group. There's a reason I didn't."

"You're a people lawyer." Tony had that pegged within five minutes of meeting Jenn for the first time. Jennifer Walters was the roll-up-the-sleeves-and-get-dirty kind of lawyer, the one who actually believed in what they did. And after doing it for almost twelve years, she still believed in it. Some went for the money, or the power, or the prestige. Some went to have their names plastered over everything, or pretty much sold their soul to some company. Jenn did several years at some soul-sucking megafirm to build her business book and learn as much as she could… and then opened a small-town law office with her name right on the front door. She could have charged five hundred dollars an hour litigating contracts, being a legal agent for some movie star or athlete, fudging taxes for some multi-billion dollar company, or getting sleazy movie stars and musicians off from minor drug convictions. Instead, she went right back to her home and opened a law office that catered to both the residents and the county government, doing several brands of law. She didn't specialize in tax, torts, civil suits, or branding. A lot of her cases were defense, but there were several that were for plaintiffs as well, meaning she picked and chose what cases she wanted. Insurance was a big one (it always was), but she actually charged lower than most every lawyer. She had also set the most pro bono hours too; California Bar stated fifty annual hours, Jenn had done one-hundred and sixty. That was a regular work month. The one thing she hadn't done was criminal law; she never so much as defended one DUI case. Twelve hour days, five days a week. And then she went and somehow found the time to help raise three girls into young women. Jenn was a lawyer that cared.

"I know the thought of it sounds enchanting… but the idea of it kind of frightens me." She continued. "If, dear God, the President drops dead… then long live the King, and that's me." Jenn looked to Tony. "I have no fucking idea how to run a country! I've watched all the same bullshit TV and movie dramas as everyone else for an inkling of an idea, but… it's a lot different when you're sitting in that seat and you find out that your decisions affects millions of lives, the American economy, the global economy, some eighteen year old kid who joined the Army because he fucked around in High School and he wants to blow shit up, and get gangbanged by the press like a hooker on a subway." Okay, Tony really did try not to laugh out loud at that one. But it was too funny. "Oh, I know why me. I'm the hero of the hour, and putting me on that seat means no one in their right Goddamn mind is going to gun for the President. But even if I did accept, even if I tenure my resignation here and move my happy busted ass down to DC, absolutely no one is going to believe I don't have you guys on speed dial. That isn't exactly something we want happening, another step closer to government control. They tried that with you, and got Flushing as an example of great ideas, pitiful follow-through." Jenn was certainly against having the Avengers under direct government control. She was actually in the middle of creating a group with the idea of response and defense in case whenever HYDRA pulled something stupid out to help defend the American Public, but then she went and found people who could (and likely would) walk away if orders became a little too poli-centric or heading towards infractions of the law. What she didn't want was the next bomb or arms race, to have some sense being used and having those in power realize that they were going to have to earn trust and accountability if they wanted the goods, so to speak.

"Know what I see?" Tony said softly as he looked over the cityscape of New York, imagining what it was that Jenn saw with the view. For him, he saw a city, the engineering marvel of so many skyscrapers and streets, the flow of traffic, the lights and the glamor. For her, she likely saw a people. "You're like me, Jenn; you have to keep moving forward. You're that fighter with something to prove, but it isn't you that you're proving. The thought of going somewhere where you're sitting on your ass and doing nothing scares you because you've been pushing your way uphill all your adult life to get what you want. And what you want is to help. Yes, the Vice Presidency could be a good thing for some, a stepping stone and an opportunity to learn what really goes on in those halls of power in the White House and Capital Hill. But you don't want that kind of power. The power you want is the power you've earned with your own hands, the kind that will lit you look in the mirror and say you did good work today, and then you do it again tomorrow. You thrill at challenges and obstacles, and the tougher the problem, the more you dig your heels. Vice Presidency isn't you, Jenn.

"I remember when you first came to us, when we were drowning in lawsuits and trying to figure out how to make any of this work." Tony continued, looking right at his boss. "You were a bit of a steamroller, honestly, and it was nice that it wasn't me for once." That had Walters snort. "But everyone saw and said the same thing about you when you met with us, talked to us, listened to us; you took this very seriously and you were going to make it happen or die trying. You were going to help the people that had been hurt and suffering losses, you were going to charge right through the bullshit to get to the things that mattered. And you did it with intelligence and hard work, not passing it off on someone else or making excuses. You were a people lawyer with the chance to help a great many people, and you went in with all the chips. Fury said something once that didn't come from I, Spy or didn't rhyme with 'classified'." Tony watched the lawyer huff but smile at that. "You can pay a man to work, you can pay a man to fight, you can pay a man to kill, but you can't pay a man to believe. You? You believe in what you're doing. You believe in it so much that we all got dragged along for the ride with smiles on our faces. You're a force of nature that doesn't want to be contained, and the Vice Presidency, in your mind, is a box. Plus, you're too young. I'm gonna have to card you, Miss." That had Walters cackling. It was good to see her laugh after all that had happened.

"Guess the President is going to have to find someone else who won't mind being dusted off before being sat at some political party to listen to double-speak." Jenn replied, looking a bit more resolute, a bit more resolved. The offer she was turning down was a big one despite her tirade of concerns. But thing was was that she didn't believe that was where she was needed most. In her heart, she already knew the answer to that question.

She was already where she wanted to be, where the people needed her most.


Avengers Tower, Midtown Manhattan, New York City, New York, January 4, 2013

Jennifer Susan Walters, Esq. (CEO, Avengers) sat at her office on the eighty-eighth floor of the Avengers Tower as one of the flat-screen televisions played a local news channel while she worked on her current training regimen; physical therapy. Being busted up sucked, there was no question about it, and the thirty-three year old lawyer had to do minor things to make sure that when got her casts off and most certainly had the hated external brace removed (surgically, at that), she would be somewhat functional. There was no doubt that she would have a long road to recovery, another six to seven weeks for the brace, and then likely another six weeks of physical therapy to retain whatever level of functionality she would get out of her right hand. Thankfully, her quick MEDEVAC out of the Trisk right after her fight with Emil Timothy Blonsky, known as the Abomination, meant she had as immediate an amount of care as possible, negating as many negative effects that time could bring to injury such as infection or further injury. Still, her right hand had been mangled badly when she had shoved an Ex-Wife into Blonsky's mouth and explosively decapitated him (someone on the internet had idiotically coined it the #MKtality and the name stuck), not to mention that she had been impaled by a piece of the Ironmonger suit when the Abomination gave her the bear hug of the ages. If there was ever another similar situation in the future, such as HYDRA or the Chitauri, Jenn would likely have to sit it out no matter how bad it was. It was very likely she would never be able to fight anyone again.

All Jenn had to to was to remember that monstrous titan of rage and brutality to recall why she had selected herself to do so, and knew that she had made the right choice. It was just that the price of it sucked.

"Heya, Mum."

"Kamala." The lawyer looked over to see Kamala Aisha Khan entering her office, coming 'home' from school. The soon-to-be sixteen-year old young woman had returned to Coles Academy High School in Jersey City, the magnet school opening up for its second semester. With her grades and credits, it was very likely that Kamala would be graduating in June as technically a Sophomore at one of the best schools in the country. She was already talking college. Jenn gave the teenager a smile as she watched the young woman enter her office in what she had called her 'super-schooling' uniform, consisting of a sweater and jeans, a hooded parka, and a red beanie over her dark tresses. "So… school?"

"Evidently I'm made of glass or a magnet for whispered comments." The first day of school after the Second American Civil War was to understandably different, most especially for the now 'super famous' Miss Marvel. There was no disguising who she was thanks to HYDRA and her own efforts in defeating them, nearly three weeks of internet videos of the Battle of the Trisk showing the efforts of the Avengers… and a young woman who had grown to be three hundred feet tall and punched a flying ship in the face. Kamala's generation (which she hilariously called Generation #TL;DR!) was on the metaphorical rampage at the knowledge of a teenage superhero that was pretty much the trend-setter and rule-breaker of the Millennials, their very own version of Tony Stark (minus all the wonderful personality quirks). "I think everyone's expecting me to start pulling out a wand like Harry Potter and turning people into frogs."

"I have a list if you can." That sent the young woman into a peel of laughter, Jenn seeing Kamala getting back on her proverbial feet after the Civil War. She still struggled with the loss of her parents (which was no surprise), but thankfully she still had people who were more than willing to be at her side and show that they were family worth having. That was just as much a balm as Jenn adopting her to make sure that the young woman knew that her future wasn't nearly so rocky. "I don't doubt that a few weeks from now, it's either going to be the new normal… or there will be no normal. It's anybody's guess."

"Well, thankfully Bruno and Nakia are a lot less on eggshells than most, so I know I've got real friends." Bruno Carrelli and Nakia Bahadir were Kamala's oldest friends; Nakia going to the same majid and school as Kamala, and Bruno being a boy that Kamala had befriended back in pre-school daycare. When Jenn had Kamala interning at the Tower last summer, she had invited the two Coles Academy students as well in late August to testbed some ideas of having something like school-oriented field trips for the up-and-coming generation as well as giving Kamala a little bit of an alibi if anyone asked what she did for the summer and 'Avenger Tower' slipped out. Bruno ended up being a bit of a tinkerer himself much in the same vein as Kamala, and Jennifer had concluded that an internship for him would likely be in the works. Nakia was a smart young woman that didn't have such mechanical or engineering skills as her friend, but a few minutes with the young Turkish woman had shown Jennifer that she was a young woman with her head on right and an eye on her own future in business. Christmas break had the two teenagers there for Kamala as she recovered emotionally from the loss of her parents; both Bruno and Nakia had been horrified to learn of their deaths as well as HYDRA's slander campaign against Kamala, and both had lashed back on the internet protecting both their friend and doing what they could to clear the name of the Khans. That earned them a great deal of gratitude and respect in Jenn's eyes… as well as Kamala's. "You'll never guess who the big surprise one was."

"Young, blond, popular, and pretty." Oh, Jenn know the young woman's name, Zoe Zimmer; Kamala's rival, archnemesis, and closet racist bitch. There was always one in a school, and Zoe had elected herself the Queen Bee for Coles Academy. Oddly enough, it was thanks to Zoe Zimmer that Miss Marvel even existed. If she hadn't felt the need to tread upon the progressive-but-obvious Muslim girl that was Kamala Khan, she never would have invented holographic illusions to avoid (and trick) her tormentors. Jenn briefly wondered about the hooligans that once got into fights with a scrawny, scrappy Brooklyn kid never knowing that they were molding the man who would become Captain America. Stranger things, indeed. "Let me guess, the past few years never happened, I always believed in you, blah blah blah, don't call me out for being the racist that I swear I'm not?"

"You forgot to flout, giggle, and flip your hair." Kamala replied with a rueful grin, Jenn obviously nailing that one on the head. "But you're right on the new normal/no normal thing. You'd think the teachers of the school would probably have had a meeting to figure out what to do when having someone like me in their attendance. Like something on their website that says 'Ha! We made an Avenger. Eat it, Deerfield!'." That had the lawyer chuckle. Only a teenager could roll with such things with such aplomb while adults fret over ramifications. Bless her for that. "But I came here to talk to you about something other than school, actually."

"Okay, have a seat." One thing that Jenn had always prided herself about was making time for her kids and her employees, even back when working in her own law office in San Bernardino. "What's on your mind?"

"So… I've been working on something. Big." The young woman sounded a little excited and a little hesitant. "When… when me and Edward were working together," Kamala's face showed a spot of grief as she thought of Edward Snowden, the man she had named Mentor, "we talked about a bunch of different subjects and whatnot. But one of our main discussions was private security, personal security, digital security… the whole 1984 thing that George Orwell wrote a roadmap to and evidently HYDRA took to heart."

Yeah, that was putting it mildly.

"So Edward and me got to talk about the Constitutional line between freedom and security and how it's about twenty-five years behind and probably had tentacles in it to keep digital watchdog programs in the moral and legal gray areas so HYDRA could exploit physical surveillance and digital security." That was a heady subject, especially for a teenager. "Mentor told me of an ideal that would result in surveillance that is a little more morally acceptable concerning things like national defense and criminal prosecution that, while scary in nature, takes a step back from the normal linchpin flaw that all state and clandestine security agencies have; human prejudice."

"That's a big topic. And you're not wrong." Everyone wanted to feel that the 'bad guy' got what they deserved. Sadly, personal perception colored who that could be, what they were, and reasons to go after them. Kamala sadly represented a part of that demographic, being a Muslim in America when the United States had suffered terrorist attacks and the military was still in Iraq and Afghanistan. It was a very touchy subject where the line was very blurred and kept in check by people on both sides who were less interested in doing what was right and instead looking to make a name for themselves, making a statement, making money, or falling to their own perceived misconceptions. There was reams of history supporting the fact that civil injustices were being done, but the problem was that people needed to recognize that they were being done on both sides of the law and by multiple groups with a plethora of agendas. It wasn't an issue that would solved with a tidy solution, sadly. "I take you wanted to push forward that idea?"

"Yeah." There was no denying that Kamala had respected and looked up to Edward Snowden, a man who had risen to the top of national cyber defense and security on his own merit and then had gone whistleblower when he saw a wrong that wasn't being fixed by the very government that he worked for. Jenn was more than aware that Kamala had been nursing a bit of a young crush on Edward, though nothing wrong or untowards had happened. It wasn't that unusual for girls around her age to see someone who was a bit older, mature, and successful in such a light. "A lot of what HYDRA was doing with their cyber watchdog programs and the ZOLA AI mainframe was the basis for great deal of security surveillance, and SHIELD did have access to much of that information considering the squids were in their ranks. I know we were benefiting from it without knowing, and I also know that you were holding that intelligence to a better standard in a legal sense than just taking whatever they gave us and looking the other direction in how they were getting it. Mentor had really been impressed with that, actually. So that was something we talked about; a legal form of security that can watchdog elements that we know are threats without feeling like we're snooping through everyone's mail and collecting everyone's Third Grade school photos and transcripts."

"You think you have a solution." Jenn had a feeling that this topic would be coming up multiple times, and she knew why Kamala was approaching her with it; Jennifer Walters had been a civil lawyer who had worked for both plaintiff and defense for both the public and government element. Legal advice from someone who had seen all shapes and sizes of discrepancies.

"It's the start of a solution, but I think it can benefit from people whose sole job isn't spying, but using actionable intelligence with the thought of legal responsibilities as well." Kamala replied with a growing tone of excitement. "When you had me put markers on HYDRA, I used the very same programs that they had been using on the public, save that they were traitors, murderers, and worse. What made me think of what Edward was saying was that the power that I had was very real and very scary. I could have blasted whoever I wanted, tracked anyone I wanted… I could see why he was concerned with the level of intelligence-gathering and surveillance when I was using those programs to bird dog fleeing high-level and medium-level HYDRA members while using it to keep an eye on the smaller members to see who they called and ran to. If HYDRA could do what I was doing but to whomever they wanted? It's scary. I could see why Edward was concerned." Kamala went quietly thoughtful for a moment. "What Edward mention was a surveillance program that had targeting perimeters, but was based off of legal precedence, not the enemy-of-the-week. No targeting solutions due to race, religion, nation-of-origin, something that could track a man and only him. Yes, conversations with him would be recorded due to that, but it wouldn't gain tens of thousands of conversations that have nothing to do with it, and a program that could sift through such things to give intelligence that matters, not accidental recipes or family conversations."

"How would we do that?" Jenn asked, highly suspecting she knew the answer.

"Mister Stark's Natural Language Program allows for real-time interface as well as adapting perimeters due to languages, situations, scenarios… it's a learning program." Kamala explained simply, knowing that Jenn knew of JARVIS and what it was. "Having an ethical oversight that isn't susceptible to human fallacy, governed by legal precedence, and used only for those who have actually committed crimes or acts against this nation or others would be a decent first step into collating intelligence without having rose-tinted glasses. But I thought of having a legal basis as a part of a program. You want a suspect, but you need a reason to think someone is a suspect. Without citing Law and Order as a reference tool, I know that District Attorney Offices look at such things before arrests are made to make sure that arrests are legal and proper otherwise they get tossed out of court. Why can't we do the same with intelligence? Have a stopgap to make sure we're doing it right and proper, that we're not overcollecting on intelligence or having whole groups of innocent people targeted for surveillance just because they're the same ethnicity or live in the same neighborhood. There will be bugs and things to be learned, but I thought that having an ethical, dispassionate watchman over the watchmen…"

"…could provide a little humanity. Or harder work." Oh, there would be flaws and mistakes, of course. All start-ups and first prototypes had their bugs. But Jenn saw what Kamala wanted to do; to have an ethical validation, unlike the so-called Intelligence Sub-Committee that didn't even ask direct questions out of the Central Intelligence Agency unless they goofed up something big. While it was likely next to impossible to have the proverbial white hat for state security agencies like the Federal Bureau of Investigations and the Central Intelligence Agency (and their bigger, more ethically-violating brother, the Department of Homeland Security), having a good measure that kept ones' hands cleaner and actions more legal in that sense was certainly saying something. America had literally just suffered something that gave the East German Stasi a run for its money, and the best way to fix that was to learn from it, correct it, and do better. Kamala was doing just that. "Who would have access to this?"

"The state agencies, but their own sections; FBI internal, CIA external, DEA for drug-related, AFT has all the fun toys one." Kamala replied, her voice excited. "But there will be other accesses for oversight to see who on the legal side is looking at things. Vet a few people to review and make corrections as needed so that way we're not going too far or perhaps skipping out on that one nugget that prevents something like Pearl Harbor and September Eleventh, or likewise castigates people like what innocent Japanese-Americans went through or Muslim-Americans did. I know there are gray spots and the line isn't exactly straight-and-narrow, but if we're trying harder to reach it, then we're at least doing it right."

"And I take it these will involve the watchdog programs you have?" Walters asked.

"Yes… but I won't have access to them. We fall under the same rules but for our own section; exotic threats, illegal science experimentation, research and development, big nuclear missiles being traded like baseball cards… that kind of thing." Jenn was glad to see that; Kamala was literally giving the power she had away to where she couldn't abuse it either. "Without SHIELD and all their fun nuggets of intelligence we were enjoying before, we need something to keep the things we're suppose to be watching from going too far. It's one thing to learn that it's been happening for weeks, and another for years. So an ultimate watchdog that gathers intelligence sent through satellite, the wi-fi network, the cloud, anything digital? It monitors it but stores nothing. Instead, already existing memory keeps it so we're not collecting a bunch of information and storing it, but instead having a Super Google collecting it for us and giving us the hits based upon our searches and our section. Means we aren't hunting petty drug dealers, aren't hording personal information, and we have to have legal verification of who we wish to look into."

"Kamala… that's a pretty bold move. And the right one." Kamala literally had the most powerful weapon in the world at her disposal… and she was denying it even to herself. Once this program was done, even she wouldn't be able to access it fully; Big Brother would be gone. "Proud of you, honey. It takes a pretty brave soul not to pick up that stick and use it. I think just about anybody, even someone with good intent and a good heart, would have difficulty using it properly."

"Yeah, that's why I've been working on the program and the Natural Language Program so no one else can use it, not even me." Kamala smiled as she beamed at what she was doing. "I even gave it a cute name. Tony will be jealous. I named it after a digital warrior and a Japanese superhero television show from the Sixties that spawned like… a thousand clones. Tron and Ultraman.

"Tron Man? That's terrible." The lawyer leveled, making the young woman sitting across from her desk laugh.

"Nonono! That is horrible. Tony would come up with that. Blegh." Kamala chuckled. It really was good to see her smile and laugh, Jenn thought to herself. "No, I'm calling it something else. The Universal Language Translation Reality Optimization Network.

"ULTRON."


FINE - ARC VIII: IN THE CATHEDRALS OF NEW YORK AND ROME


FINE - SEASON II: JENNIFER WALTER, AVENGER-AT-LAW - WINTER IS COMING


SEASON III: JENNIFER WALTERS, AVENGER-AT-LAW - YOU KNOW MY NAME


Summary: HYDRA has been thwarted. Yet trust in governments is waning from the failed Uprising. Jenn Walters and the Avengers search for HYDRA remnants while helping rebuild the American Government and public trust in a world filled with fear. Yet with the Anniversary of the Battle of New York looming, a life-changing event can prove that even one of Earth's Mightiest may fall. [AU]


ARC IX: A FAREWELL TO ARMS

"Meanwhile, at Avengers Tower…"

Tony Stark is standing in his penthouse dressed in, of all things, the Batman suit minus the cowl. Standing beside him is Kamala Khan dressed up as Robin the Boy Wonder. Surrounding them is a rich room with the New York City skyline as a backdrop past the windows.

"Mister Stark? Why are you dressed up as Batman?" Kamala asked.

"Me and Batman have a lot in common." Tony Stark replied. "We fight crime, we're both super rich, we own our own companies, we have awesome vehicles, and we've got the best toys on the planet."

"But why am I dressed up as Robin? With boyshorts?" The young woman asked scornfully.

"Every superhero needs a sidekick for comedic effect and rescue operations." Tony replied, patting Kamala on the head.

"Holy gee willikers, Mister Stark, we're going to get sued!" Kamala exclaimed.

"It's okay, I've got the money. Besides, I know a really good lawyer." Tony reassured Kamala. "She's the one I use for all the paternity tests and when you decided to Tokyo Drift the Starkmobile down Fifth Avenue last week."

"I told you, Mister Stark! I thought that button was the motorcycle button, not the 'Go-Go-Gadget-Rocket' button!" Kamala whined.

"And what do you say to the nice citizenry of the Big Apple, Girl Wonder?" Tony admonished the young woman, who turned from Tony to look ahead.

"LIVE FROM NEW YORK, IT'S SATURDAY NIGHT!" Kamala announced in a loud voice to the sound of applause from a live audience as she hosted the late-night live television sketch comedy and variety show known as Saturday Night Live.


Author's Notes: A lot of wrapping up for this season, which half of Cathedrals was about, some of it aftermath and others leading to what will be coming with the next season You Know My Name. And I am happy to report that with the polling done by my readership, I can now craft the future for Jenn Walters. You'll be seeing that finale in ARC XI: ANNIVERSARY.

So Loki is here to stay. And Jenn gets babysitting duty. There's more than a few fanfic pertaining to the son of Laufrey being on Earth, but I have something different in mind.

No, I wasn't going to install Jenn as the VP (pretty sure most people could figure that out). While it is an important position, some of what I said is true; the VP actually has little political power to reduce the possibilities of coups and takeovers.

I take a small jab at all the comic books that have teenage superheroes and somehow juggle school at the same time (which Ms. Marvel and The Spectacular Spider-Man certainly focus on in the comics and all three editions of Spider-Man movies feature as well). Kamala is this story is different; everyone knows who she is, so her going to school will be different considering that people do know that she's an Avenger. I mean, what would a school do if they knew for a fact they had a superhero in its student body? Oh, that's right, Kamala's Law! (see Marvel Comics)

Deerfield - This is reference to Deerfield Academy, one of the most prestigious private High Schools in America. It is located in Deerfield, Massachusetts.

In the comic books, Doctor Hank Pym creates Ultron (I think as a security measure or warrior, since he was created long before I was born and never read the issue), and in the movie, it was Tony Stark (which I disagree, he created an interface that interacted with the Mind Stone that contained the intelligence that was Ultron, I find it difficult to blame Tony for that exactly). Here, you see the birth of a different kind of ULTRON… created by Kamala Khan. This one is a Natural Language Program (like JARVIS) and contains an AI that monitors the watchdog programs and who accesses them (and why).

Tron -Yes, the old Disney movie with Jeff Bridges in which Flynn gets 'digitized' and sent to a computer world and fights for 'users' against a malicious program. I'm completely ignoring that new one.

Ultraman - One of the most well-known tokusatsu superheroes from Japan, Ultraman was a TV superhero that generally fought kaiju (monsters) and daikaiju (super/giant monster). Ultraman was created in 1966 and was the third most-selling licensed character in the Eighties, and is likely a contemporary to Superman in reference to US Culture. We don't speak of the Japanese TV Spider-Man from the Seventies, though. Marvel disavows all knowledge.

Um, Kamala's hosting SNL?