ALL HAIL LOKI ALLFATHER! (Wai… no!)

200 Park Avenue and East 45th Street, Midtown Manhattan, New York City, New York, March 2, 2013

Author's Note: And now… for the ack-shun.

This upcoming chapter is going to be what A Farewell To Arms was originally going to be save that The Falcon And The Winter Soldier used the Flagsmashers (mine were going to be more comic-related). So I had to change the enemy and the protagonists, but I kept the scenario. The baddies will be familiar faces, but to see who would be attacked, I numbered the Avengers alphabetically and did a Critical Role on them; I rolled three times and saw who was involved, and then made the scenario based on it.

You know it's going to be fun when the name of the chapter is based on an Iggy Pop song.

"C'mon, Bucky. You need to get out more or we're going to have to sit you on a window sill and water you from time to time so you don't wilt!"

A ninety-three year old man, World War II Veteran, recipient of some form of the Super Soldier Serum, and literally armed with a metal arm, was losing an argument to a New Jersey teenager. This was his life, now.

It had been nearly three months since James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes had been released from HYDRA's grip thanks to a redheaded Russian while at the bottom floor of an outdated secret SHIELD base. Three months of days and nights where he had been working on coming to grips with himself and his twisted past as the so-called Winter Soldier under the grips of the same organization he once fought against in Europe back in the 40's. The days were easy enough; he trained, he connected with others, he learned about the modern era and what he missed, he picked up few hobbies that included learning how to type (period, not just on cell phones), taking compromising photos of his fellow Avengers and posting it on various social media platforms for hilarity, and seeing a therapist who was a veteran of the War on Terror (an actual veteran who saw combat). The nights were much harder, sadly, but nearly three months had him less prone to waking up to panic attacks, drenched in sweat, with half-remembered dreams and nightmares of missions past. He vaguely recalled HYDRA having a device that was used not only to make him compliant, but also to dull his memories with pain and sleep deprivation. Those dreams were barely coherent, as if he had been watching a badly-shot movie with little sound, no plot, and jumping all over the place. While he wasn't thrilled with therapy, Bucky saw that his attendance did put the others at ease knowing that he was making an effort to work through his problems instead of disappearing somewhere and dwelling on it. Thankfully, this strange new family of his was supportive on several levels, from kind and caring, to teasing and joking, to just being there when he needed it and even if he said he didn't need it. He'd grinned through the therapy because the real help came from those who were with him every day.

Bucky knew that Kamala Aisha Khan was trying to get him out of the world-famous Avengers Tower just as much as she wanted to get out, not allowed to go out for her very realistic safety.

The very-soon-to-be sixteen year old young woman had been rather dutiful with the semi-proscribed protective detail, being driven to school and back daily, having her friends visit the Tower pretty much when they liked (which was about once to twice a week), going to her majid, and getting out and about… but always with an escort. Jennifer Walters hated the fact that she had mandated it so; in the lawyers' mind, it smacked too close to what women in certain countries in the Middle East suffered save that the reasons weren't secular. So soon after HYDRA's attempt to take over the American Government and blame it on SHIELD, everyone knew that there were holdouts and leftovers of the organization, and likely some had come together to regrow to make good their efforts in the future. Kamala, being the youngest member, got the automatic 'kid sister' label with everyone. The problem was that being a minor and without any real means to defend herself (considering she went to a magnet High School that most certainly frowned on any kind of item that would cause harm) meant that she was also the easiest target for any kind of retaliatory strike by HYDRA. Everyone knew this, Kamala included. She thankfully was a good sport about it.

But everyone had their limits, and Kamala wanted to go out and be a kid for a bit. She might have had a point that he could do with some fresh air, too.

"Alright, kid. You got something more than 'go that-a way!'?" Bucky asked, looking at the teenager that was not only a full foot shorter than he, but also weighed about two hundred pounds less. It didn't take him very long to remember the first time he had met Kamala Khan; it had been on the Boeing C-17 Globemaster II known as the Gungnir after waking up unfettered from HYDRA's control over him via the Scepter. She had been a scared kid who had just lost her parents, riding in an invisible airplane filled with people that ranged from extremely talented to downright unnatural. Within a few hours of him walking up from the Scepters' control, Kamala was handing him clothes and items for their fight against HYDRA, bringing him tech that was beyond even what HYDRA had and teaching him how to use it. Those few days, getting intel and training for the strike on the Office of Naval Intelligence, Bucky had worked pretty close with Kamala as she asked questions involving HYDRA… and never once did she condemn what he had known or how he had known it. He was committed to the fight, and Kamala had taken him at his word. He had been several degrees beyond impress at what Miss Marvel could do when her holographic illusions had HYDRA practically shooting at each other/themselves while the Avengers skipped away laughing, succeeding at their mission and making the organization that had held him for decades look like complete numbskulls.

He didn't even want to get into the whole mess of I'm dating my boss, and my best friend his living with her daughter. There were some things just better left alone.

"Well, there this thing in Newport Centre that I think you'll like. Plus the best sandwiches are in Sinatra Park!" Kamala replied, pulling out her cell phone and checking it for a second, texting on its screen, and then stuffing it into her back pocket. "Realistically, I'm taking you to a shopping mall because someone's birthday is coming up in a few weeks, and I rather make sure you got something nice instead of a last-minute scramble. Gets me an opportunity to shop for the same reason."

"Alright, fair enough." Bucky replied, knowing that Kamala had a point. Jenn's birthday was at the end of March, and he had been struggling with what to get her. Dating had been a gentle thing with Jenn's physical injuries and his own mental ones, taking it easy while enjoying each other's company. Valentine's Day was evidently a good deal more involved than it use to be, involving chocolates, diamonds and other jewelry. It use to be just cards and hand-written notes (though Bucky was proud to admit that his hand-written Valentine's Day note had been a rather startling success because nobody wrote things by hand anymore!). Now he and Jenn were in an official relationship, actually showing up in a suit and with flowers and asking her to date him formally. Now about half the guys in the Avengers wanted to kill him because the women thought it the most romantic thing ever. He had been agonizing on what to get Jenn for her birthday, and this would be a good way to get some female advice and shop around a mall (evidently, someone went and built big structures and shoved as many stores inside of it as possible for convenience). Plus Kamala was actually pretty fun to hang out with despite the decades of distance between them.

Sounded like it would be a pretty good day.

Newport Centre, Jersey City, New Jersey, March 2, 2013

Bucky Barnes first found himself in a store called 'Coach' that specialized in handbags, jewelry, and shoes. Kamala dragged him to the three-story shopping mall that boasted a cafeteria-like food court, an actual cinema on its third story (it had more than one theater, too!), and something like seventy or so stores ranging from department stores, clothing stores, perfumes, games people played on television, and electronic gadgets. He had shopped for dames before, but things had certainly changed since prior and during the war when a good gift would have consisted of a nice broach or a simple gold necklace. Handbags had evidently gotten smaller and more expensive (well, everything had gotten more expensive), and labels were evidently a thing. Shoes had also changed, and evidently it was common for a woman to have several pairs, a dozen or more not unusual at all. Most of this perplexed Bucky completely, remembering how his mother had two pairs of shoes, both sets meant for both work and home. Rebecca Barnes had been a clerk for the city government, having learned how to type, dictate, and manage schedules for the New York City Chambers, a good solid job that could afford a decent place in Brooklyn and food on the table for himself, his sister Martha, and Steve after his mother died of tuberculosis. Bucky remembered his mom owning exactly three dresses for work, and that was considered a lot then. Jenn had a dozen if not more for the same purpose.

After a good half-an-hour at Coach, the next stop was at a store named Charlotte Russe, a clothing store that seemed to be more oriented towards hipper, trendier clothing of the tasteful variety. Bucky still hadn't gotten over the fact of tattoos all over the place (especially on women!), strange piercings, ripped-on-purpose clothing, and rather foul or offensive slogans. Shirt use to not have anything on the save embroidery unless it was a jersey or a uniform, but now they ranged from band shirts to tacky philosophies on life. Nobody seemed to wear hats except for ball caps (which ranged from sports teams to a person's favorite beer), nobody went out in suits except for work. Charlotte Russe was mostly a woman's clothing store that offered jeans with lots of embroidery and even rhinestones on the posterior, leggings that most certainly conformed to a dames' curves. Barnes watched as Kamala leafed through a few (both for Jenn and herself) and didn't have the heart to tell her what the common thought was of a woman who wore jeans back in the Thirties and Forties; Kamala was actually a good kid who seemed a great deal more mature and thoughtful than kids her age. The first time Bucky had seen a pretty young lady (who was rather pretty young for a lady, most certainly still school-aged) with a shirt that seemed half missing, he had practically fled the area thinking he had walked into a red-light district or something. But no, that kind of thing wasn't unusual, evidently. Half of the shirts and tops in Charlotte Russe seemed to be of that kind of apparel, risque blouses and rather tight-looking fabrics that did more than just cover, supposedly. Things had certainly changed, and Bucky just resigned himself to listening to Kamala's advise and handing over the 'debit card' whenever she said she found something that Jenn would like. Bucky's two purchases had been a little more towards his taste in things; a nice charm bracelet and finally nail polish of a color that he knew the lawyer liked. Kamala called him hopeless with a understanding smile on her face.

Then the teenager dragged him to a store that had him stopping dead in his tracks before entering.

"Um, what's this place?" Bucky asked, looking at the store-in-question in trepidation and unease.

"It's a lingerie store." Kamala replied as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "You do know what lingerie is, right?"

"Parisian lady undergarments?" He remembered seeing a few surviving stores that mentioned that when the Howling Commandos helped liberate Paris. This was a good deal more… more. Or perhaps less would be more appropriate. Those stores had been boarded up, but he had seen a few surviving mannequins with the garments in question. He had never dated a lady who had wore anything that… exposing. What he was seeing now was even more libertine. And lacier.

"Okay, wow. I'd forgotten about that." The young woman admitted sheepishly. "They sell more than just lingerie here, but trust me, this is where you want to go."

Bucky looked back at the store and concluded that, no, this was not where he wanted to go. Especially with a school-aged girl at his side. But Bucky took a deep breath, steeled himself for the inevitable disaster and possibly bursting into flames upon entrance as Kamala grabbed his right arm…

…and let himself be dragged into a store called Victoria's Secret.

Much to his surprise, Bucky didn't burst into flames at the entrance. No one was pointing him out and calling him a peeping tom or a degenerate. And lightning didn't come from the sky, crash through the ceiling and strike him dead. A part of him wished it would, though.

He was surrounded by lacy, racy, intimate feminine apparel that ranged from white half-revealing bras to underwear that looked to be as concealing as shoestrings.

And there were pictures of women wearing only such garments plastered all over the walls for advertisement right out in the open, and everyone was okay with it!

Heaven probably looked a good deal like the inside of a Victoria's Secret. The waiting room to Hell probably did, too.

Bucky found himself standing in front of a table that was covered with 'bargain' bras of many different colors and patterns, ranging from pink simple half-cup bras to ones with lace frills decorating the tops of the cups, some having polka dots and others having that looked like snake skin or reptile skin. Flanking the table were two mannequins wearing some of the offerings, wearing half-revealing bras that didn't cover the tops of the breasts, exposing half of a woman's cleavage, and then panties that were basically a band around the hims and just enough cloth looping from back to front to perhaps make a baseball… barely. He found himself remember dating a gal who had worn a garter on one of her thighs despite having full stockings and just how excited he had been at such an alluring piece of garment! Now he found himself looking at a mannequin that was wearing a brassiere that didn't even surround the mannequin's 'breasts', just being a piece of see-through pink lace that included garter straps to hold the 'thong' up… which there was nothing around the hips! Bucky couldn't stop staring.

That was hardly the only racy thing in the store. It evidently had everything from nightwear, stockings, pantyhose, panties, thongs, bikinis, make-up, perfume, teddy's (that weren't bears), ranging from somewhat covering, to semi-opaque, to why even bother? Bucky felt like a man lost at sea without any kind of flotation device, and he was wishing his scruffy-but-kept beard were thicker to hide the fact that his cheeks were probably as red as a Santa Claus suit.

"Well, fancy seeing you here."

Bucky gulped as he recognized the feminine voice from behind him, winced hard, and slowly turned to see Doctor Doreen Allene Green (DVM) standing right behind him with a way all-too-knowing look and smile on her face as if she had caught him red-handed. Well, she had, essentially.

God, please blast me right now. I'll be smiling when you do so.

"I… ah… um…" Smooth, idiot, Bucky thought to himself as he stammered and blushed to try to explain to the Veterinarian why he happened to be standing in a store meant for women. Guys didn't buy ladies clothes. But there he was staring at mannequins, pictures, and undergarments like a boy at a candy shop. He half-wondered if Father Mallory would pop out of the grave and knock him senseless with a Bible. A big one. "…shopping." He finally stuttered it out. He couldn't even look at Doreen.

"Aww, getting something for Jenn? That's sweet." Bucky couldn't believe his ears; she wasn't calling him out, labeling him a degenerate, admonishing him, or trying to throw him out! "I'm kind of shocked you were able to walk in here. Most guys hate walking into lingerie stores and sections."

"Gee, I wonder why." Barnes muttered under his breath. There were a couple of men in Victoria's Secret, and they all looked awkward or embarrassed. Not as much as he, but they seemed to be at least pretty uncomfortable. So it wasn't just him. Not that it had him feel any better.

"Need some help?" Oh God, this was the last thing he needed.

"Oh, hey Doreen!"

Nope, this was.

Kamala had come back from wherever she had ran off to (Bucky had been practically frozen on the spot about five feet into the store's interest where the bargain bra table was and hadn't moved since) holding what looked to be a few pieces of make-up. Doreen looked at the underaged teenager, then at him (Bucky covered his face out of sheer embarrassment, they called it 'facepalming' now), then back at Kamala. God, Thor, His Holiness, someone? Lightning bolt, top of skull, right now thankyouverymuch.

"Tell you what…" The Veterinarian began, "how about I help the bag of awkward embarrassment here while you go look around for yourself." Doreen smiled at the spunky teenager, who was all grins while Bucky tried not to cringe at the thought of a young lady looking and possibly purchasing such things. Kamala was off in a flash as Doreen looked at him with a sympathetic smile. "I'll tell you what, Bucky. I pick, and you hand over the card like a nice gentleman. Sound good?"

"Can 'strike me dead' be Plan A instead?" Barnes asked in a weak voice, getting Doreen to laugh a little, thankfully not teasing him about his plight. "Fine. Just… don't mention this to anyone."

"I hardly doubt you're the first male Avenger to be dragged into a lingerie store, big guy."

"Not… a… word." Bucky reiterated, unable to hide the shame in his voice. The sooner out of there, the better.

"Fine, grouchy bear. Not a word." Doreen crossed her heart with a finger. "I'll have you out of here in no time so you don't have a heart attack out of shame. We'll head towards something that will be a little easier on you, okay?" Doreen was already threading her arm around his left arm and pulling him along, Bucky evidently just there for the ride. The auburn-haired women took him to a 'sleepwear' section where silky-looking nightgowns of various colors and lace were displayed. It reminded him of undershirts and shirts, and that wasn't so bad. There was also more bras available, but these ones a little… tamer.

"Hi, how can I help?" A blond woman wearing a blouse that was rather open to show that she wore some of the store's own apparel came up, and a name tag marked her as a store employee named 'Monica'. Bucky was doing his best not to look at the purposefully-exposed cleavage that practically had a lighted sign that said look here. Doreen didn't seem to notice or care.

"Yes, my friend here is buying his girlfriend some lingerie, but he's a hopeless romantic and incredibly embarrassed." God, the dame was just blurting this stuff out. "How about the Dream Angel unlined lace and satin demi bras? What's her size?"

"Um… five-ten." Bucky replied. Jenn was tall for a dame, taller than a fair deal of men.

"That's not what I meant." Doreen rolled her eyes with a smile, sharing it with Monica. "I meant bra size."

"Oh." Bucky tried not to facepalm. "Um… I…" God he wanted to run away as fast and as hard as possible. "…don't know."

"You never looked at the tag? That what guys usually do."

Damn it.

His face likely said it all as Doreen's face morphed into a surprised oh and then to a bit of a humorous one as she politely covered her growing smile. She had figured it out.

"We'll go with a 36D for starters. Jenn's pretty endowed." The Doctor told the female employee, who nodded with the instruction, walking away to grab the garment in question. Bucky just looked at Doreen with a miserable look on his face. "Oh, it's okay, Bucky. It's actually kind of sweet that you guys are taking it nice and slow. Most guys fumble or go for sweet little lies, but you're taking your time. Girls like that kind of thing. This will get you to second base in no time."

Bucky facepalmed. Again. Hard.

Fifteen minutes later, Bucky was leaving the store with a sigh of relief, three bags in his hands (one for Jenn, one for Doreen, and dear God one for Kamala), and two chattering ladies leading the way. He didn't even care where they went next as he fled the lingerie store, promising never to go in there again.

"Hey, lets go get some sandwiches! Omar's has the best sandwiches this side of the Hudson! And they're just right across the from the Holland Parkway in Hoboken." Kamala gushed, tugging at Doreen's arm. "They're Mediterranean, so they're Kosher and have vegan options, too."

"I'm game. Bucky?" The Veterinarian asked, looking at him.

"Sounds good." Anything, anything, to get away from that store.

Omar's Gyro Stand, Sinatra Drive, Sinatra Park, Hoboken, New Jersey, March 2, 2013

"… you know, these really are some of the best sandwiches I've ever had."

"I know, right?" Kamala Khan gushed as she held an aluminum foil-and-wax paper-wrapped pita-and-lamb gyro wrap in one hand and a Sobe Strawberry Daiquiri in the other, trying to talk and chew at the same time as she walked along the Hudson River waterfront known as Sinatra Park alongside Bucky Barnes, the ninety-three year old veteran armed with his own gyro. It was just before noon on a Saturday, and the weather had warmed up enough that getting out and about didn't mean bundling up like the Michelin Man. She had prodded Bucky into getting out and about for a little bit with the weather turning nicer and due to the fact she was still an underaged Avenger, she merited a chaperon. Oh, she got it, but it still felt a little demeaning to having her hand proverbially held whenever she went out in public save for school (and Kamala didn't doubt there was a Plan A through Z for a just-in-case that she didn't officially know about), but on the other hand she also hung out with people that were pretty dang awesome, who were also her friends, and she trusted and believed in. She had a very awesome, very unusual second family. "The one with falafel instead of lamb is amazing, too."

"Yeah, it is." On the other side of Kamala was Doreen Green (DVM), eating a vegan gyro made up of the same ingredients save for the lambmeat; instead, it was replaced with the chickpea and garbanzo bean mix known as falafel for the vegan-oriented woman who had gone to the University of Michigan to be a Veterinarian. While Kamala wasn't a vegetarian at all (turning down Chicken Tikka Masala or Beef Karahi was just never going to happen), there were a good many vegetarian dishes in both Pakistani and Indian cultures, and the young Pakistani-American woman had been introducing some of them to Doreen, cooking with the Veterinarian at least twice a week and trying out different ethnic dishes ranging from various parts of the world both for fun and to try new things while turning the Avengers into guinea pigs with their culinary experiments. Muneeba Khan had taught her daughter how to cook not only so she knew how, but also as a way for mother and daughter to bond together, and Kamala was grateful for the experience, spending time with her mother in such a meaningful manner that meant more to her now that her Abbu and Ammi were gone. She was now doing the same with the Avengers for the exact same reasons. "It always surprises me how spicy falafel can be. Throw a couple of chili peppers in it and this thing could be considered dynamite."

"We should so try that!" Kamala laughed, trying not to spray her food out of her mouth due to her excitement. "I keep poking Nat into making us borscht and pirogi, but she claims she doesn't even know how to run a microwave properly. I highly doubt that considering she can hack into pretty tight electronic security and field-strip a gun blind-folded behind her back, to boot." That just had Bucky chuckle. "What about you? Any ethnic Brooklyn dishes? Or do I need to read Upton Sinclair's The Jungle as a recipe book?"

"Ouch." Evidently, Barnes knew of the book that had been a rather-resounding example of what was wrong with food practices back in the 30's. "We boiled everything back then just to be on the safe side. My mom was Irish Catholic through-and-through, so that meant lots of beef and potato stew, and then there was turnip and beets." That had Kamala faux-gag while Doreen laughed. "I do remember this little Jewish grocery down the street from where we lived that had the best meat. Probably because it was the cleanest. Though there was this Polish market that had this sausage that looked big enough to beat a man with. Those were good."

"Kielbasa. Which I've never had for two reasons." Doreen piped up. Even if she hadn't been a vegan, she wouldn't eat pork because of her Jewish heritage. All three of them were eating their sandwiches while walking along the waterfront, enjoying the semi-decent weather for March in eastern New Jersey. There were probably a hundred other people with the same idea about enjoying the outdoors now that the weather wasn't so cold, and the surprising part was that no one around them seemed to recognize the Terminator, Artemis, or Miss Marvel walking amongst them dressed in normal clothes and lightweight jackets to ward off the slight chill and wind that always seemed to follow the Hudson. Not for the first time Kamala had notice this trend, most people burying their faces in their cell phones. Not that she was complaining. "So now that your painful shopping experience is done, you two have any other plans for today or are you just going to wing it and enjoy it?"

"I could drag Bucky to a salon while I get a pedicure. I'm sure that will thrill him to no end." Kamala quipped as the auburn-haired woman laughed while Bucky grumbled, already having to suffer a few stores oriented towards women, the crowning achievement being Victoria's Secret. Kamala had shamelessly gotten a few pics on her iStark phone as blackmail, evidence, and pranking material should the need arise, seeing Bucky awkwardly standing in a lingerie store looking bashful and embarrassed as hell while fumbling making purchases. If she didn't use them, Sam Wilson sure as heck would if Tony didn't hack it out of her phone and post it himself. Posting a pic of Bucky Barnes in Victoria's Secret would probably have her win the gold medal of pranks. She was actually seriously considering doing it just to see how everyone would react. A pic of him at a nail salon would just be tasty frosting to that cake, dragging the veteran along for a girls' day out. Nat would be absolutely jealous out of sheer professional enjoyment. The teenager had already pulled out her cell phone from her back pocket to check her social media accounts and at least send the pic of poor Bucky standing in the middle of a lingerie shop to Natasha when she saw an error message pop up.

Network Connection Unavailable, her iStark cell phone displayed.

What the hell, no service in Hoboken?, Kamala thought with a snort. Her iStark phone was probably the most advanced mobile cellular device on the planet (yes, rivaling and probably topping even Tony's and Nat's), boasting more memory storage, a much better operating system, better downloading speeds, a much finer battery, and the ability to piggyback off just about any signal emitting device from Bluetooth, WiFi, radio frequency, and even shortwave without the need for icky things such as passwords or security protocols. If she wanted to look at someone else's phone, all she'd have to do was open up the network setting, find it, tap on it, and start perusing their data. Tony did that all the time to keep people from recording and posting rather compromising evidence of him, keeping an edge on business competition, and see who was spying on whom. Kamala did it to keep pervs from trying to get 'juicy' shots (not that she ever acted or dressed in such a way, but it was just good policy) or info on her and blasting it all over the internet. For her, it was just another layer of security.

But to be completely disconnected from the internet when she could hop-scotch on other mobile devices within a one-hundred meter range via Bluetooth connectivity (regardless if said device had it turned on; they were 'always' on to a degree)? To be able to connect to a cell phone, a printer, the internet, and probably even the police-band radio all at the same time if she wished? To jailbreak through standard network security protocols and firewalls thanks to the many hacking tools Tony Stark himself had written because he was nosy and paranoid even before a bunch of terrorists tried to kill him, kidnapped him instead, and then his business partner trying for a second time? In the heart of Hoboken, which was right next to Newark and Jersey City, and literally across the river from Manhattan? The best connectivity was probably right where she was at, with likely a dozen cell towers within a two mile radius just so it could handle the bandwidth. Unless there was a major power outage, a solar storm, or a war, there was no way the WiFi would be down to where even she couldn't access it.

Kamala looked around and saw other people tapping on their cell phones in a clear indication that they weren't working.

Something was off.

"Hey, is anyone else's cell phones taking the day off?" Kamala asked, barely looking over at the others as she worked her phone single-handedly while holding her gyro in the other. Bucky, of course, looked as if such a thing were inconsequential, but Doreen was frowning slightly as she pulled out her own cell phone and looked at it. "Any bars?"

"No, network is down. That's weird." The Veterinarian replied, her tone a little disturbed. They were out in the open in a heavily-populated urban city! Kamala was about to say something when she was interrupted by a man behind her speaking a foreign language out loud she didn't recognize.

"Zhelaniye."

"Zhelaniye."

Three things happened when Kamala Khan heard a word spoken by a man behind her, a word she didn't know and didn't understand.

The first thing that happened was that she, naturally curious, turned to see a man in his late-20's to early-30's standing not ten feet away, looking right at her; no, not her, them. The second thing that happened was that Kamala felt a general sense of unease by the way the man was looking at them; no, not looking, staring. The third thing she noticed?

Bucky had frozen and locked up right where he stood as soon as he heard the word.

"Rzhavyy."

Everything and everyone was still moving out as before save for the three Avengers and the man dressed in a long winter coat that appeared to be a bit too bulky and too large for him. Kamala noted that the coat looked to be straining around the man's girth despite that neither his neck or his face suggested he was fat. In fact, he looked to be in very good shape from the neck up.

Bucky's sandwich fell to the ground, falling from nerveless hands.

"Doreen…"

"Semnadtsat'"

Doreen was pulling her attention from her disconnected cell phone as she turned to look to see the same man who Kamala was looking at, his brown eyes intent and glaring. Bucky was as still as a statue, his face slack and eyes glazed over as Kamala pushed on him, trying to get him to move or say something. It was like pushing on a brick wall.

Doreen was pocketing her cell phone as her right hand went for her hip.

"Rassvat."

Kamala was in near panic mode as she saw Doreen's jacket lift up slightly to reveal a pistol on her hip; Prophet bless her heart, the Veterinarian was armed! Bucky was unmoving as Kamala pushed on him again, waiving a hand in front of his face and screaming his name as Doreen was beginning to clear leather, the black compact pistol coming out as people passed by oblivious.

The man's mouth went to speak.

"Pech'"

Something was happening to Bucky; he was in total shutdown. Kamala didn't know what or why, but she saw Artemis pulling out her pistol to aim at the man speaking the strange words when, of all things, a paintball hit the auburn-haired woman right in the face. Something splattered her across the face as Doreen fumbled and dropped her pistol, her hands going to her face as she clutched at her eyes and cried out in pain. Kamala could feel her heart thudding hard in her chest as she looked back at the man who was saying the words she couldn't understand. Kamala was frozen where she stood; she remembered all too well a room on the thirty-seventh floor of the Trisk.

"BUCKY! DOREEN!"

"Devyat'"

The hairs on the back of Kamala's neck perked up with the sound of that word; she knew that one. Natasha Romanoff claimed to know well over two dozen languages well enough to be able to go to their native countries and be able to find a bathroom, order a lunch, and remove a head of state by asking and reading directions. The redheaded woman knew some Pashto, and Kamala had been teaching her a little for fun. In return, Nat had been teaching Kamala a little Russian as well. The teenager knew simple words… yes, no, hello, goodbye… and how to count to ten.

The man had said the number 'nine' in Russian, and Kamala had an idea what was going on and how as the mans' mouth opened to speak once more as Doreen sank to her knees, trying to wipe at her eyes.

"BABUSHKA!" Kamala shouted at the same time as the man in the long winter coat tried to talk. His face morphed to one of annoyance, but it wasn't his own face that he should have been concerned with.

Bucky snapped out of his trance, and all there was on his features was unadulterated murderous rage.

"Dobroserdechnyy. VOZVRASHCHEN-NO!"

There was the sound of a wet sickening snap as a metal hand gripped a man's neck, hoisted his entire body off the ground with ease, and broke his cervical spine single-handedly with ease. The man's body dropped bonelessly onto the concrete ground of Sinatra Park, most everyone oblivious save for a man with a metal arm, a woman who could talk to animals, a teenager with a perchance with tech, the man lying on the ground with a broken neck, and whoever his buddies were. Kamala was at Doreen's side, trying to help the Veterinarian up while rescuing her dropped pistol as Bucky stood over the speaking man as he laid at the veteran's feet, gurgling weakly. Somehow the guy was still alive.

"Bucky? Bucky!" Kamala cried out as she hoisted Doreen up, the Doctor taller than she, heavier than she, and her eyes red and the skin around it inflamed and puffy. Someone had hit her with something that had affected her, and Kamala knew within a second who might know something like that; HYDRA. She remembered Doreen speaking of the 'tests' that organization had done after injecting her and making her breath some weird gas that changed her from a normal human to a woman who could control animals and change into a weretabby. Doreen's skin was durable enough to bounce most all small calibers and some of the lighter military ones, but she was susceptible to chemicals and aerosols. Only HYDRA knew that for a fact.

"BUCKY! HYDRA IS HERE!" The Pakistani-American teenager shouted at the ninety-three year old man, and that snapped him back to reality as he looked over to see the fifteen year old woman trying to hoist and haul a twenty-six year old Doctor whose eyes were reacting to something badly. "Get us out!"

Whatever had happened to Bucky was gone; no longer was he as still as a statue, his mind seemingly absent. The ninety-three year old man moved from the fallen body of the man in the long winter coat (he wasn't dead, but Kamala was pretty certain he wished he were and likely would in in a few minutes if his neck were broken) and rushed right towards them with the look of dead intent on his face. Kamala knew that of the Avengers, she was both the youngest and the weakest. She wasn't a trained fighter, hadn't spent years doing CrossFit or karate, didn't shoot laser beams out of her eyes, and certainly couldn't outrun a full-grown man, especially ones with military training and experience. So she knew in order to get them to escape with Doreen's eyes rendered useless for the time being, Kamala needed to get Bucky's head in the game, so to speak.

The veteran hoisted the Veterinarian with his metal left hand and threw her over his broad shoulder like a sack of meal at the same time he scooped Kamala with the other and practically tucked her under his armpit (making her squawk) as he began to run.

It was like riding the world's worse elevated train with the world's worst track system ever by the way she was jostled and bounced, but Kamala wasn't worried about that.

"No, not the car!" The teenager announced as Bucky ran out of Sinatra Park… and right towards where the leased 2013 Nissan Xterra she and Bucky were using for the day to drive them around. "Get someone else's!" Kamala might not have been a military commander, but her time with the Avengers (and a week spent in the Gungnir) had her developing her counterplan skills. Thankfully, her brilliance worked really well in coming up with ideas of counterattack and thwarting best-laid plans. It would certainly be useful now. Bucky didn't even argue as he ran, enhanced legs carrying them out of the narrow park at almost frightening speeds, turning away from where the Xterra was located on Second Avenue and Sinatra Parkway. Instead, he headed deeper into Hoboken where the traffic (both automotive and pedestrian) was thicker. "We need a car, a case of water, some Beats or EarPods, and a plan." The teenager told the former soldier as she bounced and dangled in his right arm, almost feeling nauseous from the nearly forty mile-an-hour speed while Bucky juked around pedestrians and leapt over a complete intersection from one sidewalk to the next because he evidently didn't want to maneuver around cars. "That store!" Kamala pointed as she saw an approaching Walgreen's, of all things, the pharmacy chain thankfully small enough to fit in the cramped confines of Hoboken but providing enough of the essentials to be useful. They had probably cleared about ten blocks in a minute, and the former soldier wasn't even winded. "Put us down as I make some really fast purchases."

"My eyes, I can barely see." The Veterinarian said in a pained tone as Bucky put her down on her feet, her hand holding onto Bucky's arm. "Everything's blurry as hell and they hurt like they're on fire."

"It kind of smells like a swimming pool." Barnes mentioned as Kamala walked right into the pharmacy, the sliding door moving to one side as the teenager led the way, Bucky following behind her holding Doreen as she stumbled along beside him.

"Chlorine. Chlorine's water-soluble." The fifteen-year old answered, knowing that she had been on the right track with the water. Acids and bases would be neutralized with enough water, and most chemicals would be washed away save for Class IV Chemicals (known as water-reactives, lye being one of the more famous ones thanks to the movie Fight Club). "Case of water." Bucky didn't even break stride as he grabbed a bagged case of water that was practically next to the front door while practically half-carrying Doreen as Kamala went the meager electronics section and found what she was looking for; Apple EarPods, wireless earphones that had just enough of a chip to be noise-canceling. Tony had something that blew those out of the water, but they were at Avengers Tower through about a mile of half of traveling and probably tens of thousands of roadblocks known as motorists. That wouldn't do. Kamala grabbed the devices along with a portable microtape recorder and some blank microtapes, a set of precision tools, a small set of hand towels, and a four-pack of Red Bulls. She had some items in her messenger bag that she carried practically everywhere, but with the WiFi and the Bluetooth on her phone down, it limited her. Kamala checked her phone to see the same words Network Connection Unavailable displayed. HYDRA hadn't hacked her phone, but they had done the next best thing; muted it, essentially. The fact that it was still down almost a mile away from Sinatra Park confused her. She saw another customer, a young mother with a toddler who was pressing on her phone with a frown. "No internet?"

"No, my phone stopped working like a minute ago." The woman replied, frustration lacing her voice. Kamala frowned at the information. Her phone had been down for longer than that.

Suddenly, she thought she knew how.

"Okay, thanks!" The teenager replied as she gave a little wave at the little boy (who gave a semi-toothless wave back) while she moved back to Bucky, who was standing waiting in line with at least three people in front of him, looking frustrated and angry while the cashier and the customer argued over the price of something. Kamala rolled her eyes as she pulled out two hundred dollars from her messenger bag in twenties, slapped it on the counter, and continued walking towards the door as the cashier squawked. They didn't exactly have time to play it nice (Tony had taught Kamala more than just how to build things, after all!), so Kamala walked right out of Walgreen's with a little less than two hundred dollars worth of stuff with Bucky and Doreen following her.

"We need a car. That one." The teenager pointed to a likely candidate in the small parking lot, making the veteran snort a little.

"Little small, isn't it?"

"Obviously you haven't watched The Italian Job." Kamala replied with a smile, making Doreen groan as she tried to blear at the vehicle in question.

"Grand Theft Mini Cooper? Wonderful." The auburn-haired woman lamented as Kamala moved to the vehicle in question, pulling out a small rod with a magnet attached to it. Normally it was use to keep sensitive components in place or to keep tiny screws from falling out and down into expensive equipment. But the device came from Natasha Romanoff, and like just about anything the Black Widow carried, had multiple uses. Kamala took the MagGrab and stuck the rod into the key slot, wiggled it for a second or two, and then turned the lock and opened the driver side door.

"Bucky drives, Doreen and me in the back seat." Kamala called out as she hit the unlock button on the interior panel of the driver door and went for the back seat. "Keep the windows up. And head west."

"West?" Bucky asked as he helped Doreen into the car, her hands trying to find her way as Kamala went around the car and opened the other rear passenger door, stuffing their purchases in the car and getting in as Bucky slid into the driver seat.

"Communication is down, so the next play is to head for reinforcements if we can't call them." Kamala theorized while Bucky tore the cover of the ignition on the steering wheel off, and then ripped out the ignition itself to expose the wires. "You just had to do the Terminator thing, didn't you?" Doreen snorted as Kamala ripped open the bag of water bottles and pulled one out. "HYDRA knows this, so they will have the Holland Tunnel clamped down when we go for it. So that means the opposite direction, where fewer of them will be." Bucky grunted at that as he twisted the wires together and hotwired the Mini Cooper into life. Kamala took a water bottle and punctured the cap with a pen to make a small hole. "Doreen? I popped a hole in the cap so you can flush your eyes out. Be generous, we've got plenty of water and some towels to dab as needed." The young woman handed the water bottle right into the Veterinarian's hand as Kamala went for her cell phone. "Oh! And turn on the radio! Any station."

Bucky peeled out of the parking lot while turning on the radio. The car was already on the surface streets of Hoboken when the radio played nothing but static on an FM station. The next two stations were like that two when he hit the channel buttons while Kamala worked on her phone for a moment before pulling out the EarPods. Kamala spared a glance back to see two blacked-out Sports Utility Vehicles pulling into the Walgreen's they just left, but then veering away from it as well. There weren't any decals or extra antenna on the SUV's, and they were driving aggressively enough to suggest they weren't rushing to work.

"I'm getting nothing on the radio, either." Barnes called out as he turned off of a road and headed towards I-78 West and State Road 139, the roadsigns describing it as the "Cell phones and radio?"

"Signal jamming equipment. I'm thinking the US Navy's WARLOCK Program. And take the Skyway!" Kamala replied as she used a precision tool to pry open the case of one of the EarPods. "Normally the WARLOCK Duke is the size of an end table and needs a good deal of power to run it, getting a range of a hundred meters or so. But they have smaller ones the Army doesn't use anymore that were carried by US Soldiers and Marines during the beginning of Operation Iraqi Freedom. I think that's what we're dealing with."

"So… where's it at?" Doreen asked as she began squirting water in her eye, wincing as she began flushing it out.

"Bucky's arm. Likely with a tracking device, too."

That had Barnes look back from where he sat to the teenager in the back seat as she plugged something from her phone into the first EarPod. They were already getting on the Pulaski Skyway that would have them heading towards Newark.

"They're trying to capture me again." Bucky seethed as he faced the road, taking the on-ramp onto the Skyway that would lead them away from the peninsula and into New Jersey proper.

"No… they're not after you, and they're not after me." The Doctor said as she wiped away some of the water from her right eye, blinking several times. "Bucky… we're just fighters. It's her they'll be after."

Kamala stopped typing on her phone as she looked over to Doreen, feeling a very real quiver in her heart as the Mini Cooper drove west on the Skyway.

"I know everything." The young woman said, realizing what Doreen actually meant, looking at the Veterinarian in horror. "All the projects, findings, discoveries that we've made with ChiTech, all that we have, how it works, any flaws… I'm ten to fifteen years of catch-up in a shell." Kamala also knew what Doreen wasn't saying. HYDRA wouldn't leave anything to chance; they would kidnap her and use the Scepter on her so there wouldn't be any falsehoods, forgot-to-mentions, or incorrect intelligence. Passwords and whatnot would be changed, but Kamala had seen the inner workings of the SCI/TECH Department of Avengers Tower. She knew strengths, flaws, what to make… and how to make it. And though neither her sister Jessica or Doreen had ever mentioned it out loud (to her or others as far as Kamala was aware), but the young woman knew that HYDRA had done more to them than just altered them with something called 'cree' material as part of PROJECT ARGUS. When both Kamala and Jessica Drew had been in Walter Reed waiting for their mum to wake up, Jess would unconsciously tense up anytime a man got near her, even her Uncle Bruce.

Kamala knew that if she were in HYDRA's hands, her fate would be very similar but a much worse disaster for her family.

"Okay, I have your EarPods ready for you, Bucky." Kamala sad after she tinkered with the other one, handing them to the veteran. "They're noise-canceling, so I've uploaded a small translating program into it so whenever someone speaks Russian, it should translate it into English. Best I could come up with in five minutes." Bucky just took them with his human hand and began placing them into his ears.

"How will we know if they work?" Barnes asked as he drove, his eyes just as much on the road as they were on the rear view and side mirrors. Kamala took a deep breath and spoke her answer.

"Zhelaniye."

Doreen, in the middle of flushing her other eye, sputtered as she did a bit of a double-take while trying to squirt her eye with water to clear the chlorine out. They continued to drive, and Bucky merely looked back over his shoulder with a grunt.

"Translated it to 'longing'." The Super Soldier said finally. Thank the Prophet that worked!, Kamala thought to herself as she went back to her phone, seeing that WiFi was still down. Yes, the jamming device had to be with them, and Bucky's metal arm was the likely culprit. Why it hadn't been activated before would be a question for another time, but perhaps Doreen was right; Kamala might herself be the target. But why not try to get her when she went to school, or at school? Jamming equipment, and I would staple myself right to Bucky's side if I were threatened… denying me the ability to activate the Miss Marvel Project. HYDRA had waited patiently in the shadows for an opportunity to present itself, waiting for when they would be strongest; Bucky with some sort of organic software program in his head, and Kamala practically defenseless. Too many Avengers and they would call it off. Kamala with any of the others and they would wait another day. But if they knew Jenn's birthday (no surprise, they probably knew everyone's birthday), then they waited for the CEO's adopted daughter and her boyfriend to go birthday shopping. All they had to do was wait. Bucky would be a nice catch, to be sure, and Doreen as well, the Scepter still in HYDRA's hands. But the Veterinarian had a very valid argument; Kamala was much more than a fighter for the Avengers.

Oh Allah, she knew a lot more about Wakanda, too; vibranium, the Heart-Shaped Herb, their advanced technology and the fact that their capital was shaded with a hologram!

"My eyes are better. We have a plan?" Doreen's eyes were red and irritated as if she had spent all day in a staring contest while underwater, her blue eyes surrounded by red veins in her while sclera. But at least she wasn't acting mostly-blind anymore.

"Safehouse." Bucky said immediately.

"Safehouse equals deadhouse." Kamala countered immediately as she looked up a program in her phone. "We need tools, cover and concealment, the ability to move, and the ability to fight back. And I know the perfect place for it. Get off on the New Jersey Turnpike and head north, Bucky. We're going to the Meadowlands Expo." Kamala said with a smile.

"The… expo center?" Doreen asked, shaking her head in confusion. "Why? What do they have there that will help?"

"Gun show?" Bucky asked hopefully, making Kamala laugh.

"Noooooope! Something better." The teenager replied as the Mini Cooper turned from the Skyway to the toll road known as I-95/New Jersey Turnpike. "If HYDRA want to find us? They're going to be looking for a needle in a needlestack.

"ComiCon's this weekend." Kamala Khan reveled with a too-big grin. "And we already have the perfect disguises."

Author's Notes: Srsly? ComiCon?

Oh yes, I dragged Bucky into a Victoria's Secret. I mention that lingerie was seen as 'French lady apparel' during the 40's (which is true). Brassieres were full-cup bras of the time instead of the half-cup more normally seen today, and lacked anything decorative for the most part (you know the cute little bowtie thingie in the middle? That would have been seen as a 'sweetheart brassiere' back in the day). Lady swimwear was generally one-piece that went from just below collarbone to mid-thigh, blouses were the thing (not shirts) and were generally button to or just below the collar bone, and corsets were still in use. So that's where Bucky is at and I wanted to poke fun at the differences in something considering intimate apparel when even a bit of a player like 40's Bucky would be shocked. I hope I made it as awkward and as humorous as I could.

The one piece I really describe is the 'Wild Strappy Lace Thong Teddy'.

One thing I thought strange about the 'Winter Soldier' words when used in CA:CW was that Bucky was active when Zemo used them (freeing himself from a rather impressive cage and nearly killing the Baron). Instead, I used them as what I believed they would actually do; shut Bucky down with a word so they could be read and turn him into the Winter Soldier. Then I 'upgraded' Bucky with things that I see an assassin/operative carrying for targeting missions.

The other thing I noted was that the 'words' are in a certain order, said at a certain pace, and are in Russian. So Kamala did a 'hack' by entering a wrong password (so to speak) and stopped the initiation of the Winter Soldier Program. Then she put just enough Russian in a pair of headphones to translate Russian to keep that from happening again temporarily. Remember, Jenn had the same thing all the way back in The Legal Has Landed when she defended Thor in court in Norway.

Hehehe, EarPods. But I actually had to look this up. Never owned a pair. They were going to be Beats but they didn't have wireless ear buds at the time.

Superheroes hiding in a building filled with people dressed as superheroes? WE'RE GOING TO COMICON!