Her battered old motorbike looked very out of place as she pulled up outside the sleek and intimidating gates of the new Avengers HQ. Recalling what Steve had told her to do, she lifted the visor on her helmet, swung a leg over the saddle and walked over to a buzzer on one side. Upon pressing it, two lasers appeared- one scanning her, one scanning her bike.
"Who're you?" a crackly voice barked through the speakers.
"Uh. Eva Kresk. I have a delivery."
"You the Oscorp person?"
"Um, no. Delivery as in coffee run."
There was a pause, filled only with static crackling. "You got ID?" the voice asked, and with difficulty she extracted her license from the pocket of her leathers. "Hmm. Come in, then."
The gates glided noiselessly open to reveal a long driveway leading up to a large, low slung white building in a clear area of deciduous forest. She revved her spluttery engine and drove along it, and two guys with guns ran towards her as she approached the building.
"Whoa!" she said, jumping off the bike and raising her hands in the air. "Don't shoot me!"
"We're here to show you the way, girl. Calm down."
"Oh." Feeling a little disappointed at the apparently somewhat lax security, Eva opened the box mounted on the back of her bike and pulled out the grid that held the cups.
"I don't see why they don't just use the coffee machine here," said one of the guards. "It's easier."
"Because I make good joe, bitch. If it's good enough for Captain America then it's good enough for you."
"It is supposed to be the best coffee in New York, Pete," the other guard said, "and it's not the weirdest thing that happens here, let's be real."
"Yeah, Pete," Eva added.
"Harrumph," said Pete. Eva was amazed- it wasn't even like he made a noise of distaste, he actually harrumphed. She didn't think people really did that. "It's probably cold by now, anyway."
"Still warm, dude. Stop slagging it off while I'm stood right here." They led her to a set of frosted glass doors, which slid open automatically. "Delivery!"
"Oh, good," said Cap, taking his gratefully. The motley assortment were stood around a glass table- she recognised all of them, save for a dark-haired girl in a red jacket who watched her warily. As she looked at the table and the holograms projected onto it, Romanoff swiped a hand across it and they disappeared.
"Did you get your dissertation grade yet?" Vision asked her, who unlike the others had not surged forward towards the caffeine, due to the fact he never seemed to drink.
She shook her head. "Not for another week," she told him, "one more week of wonderful ambiguity, before I find out how terrible I really am. It's like- if you took twelve years of constant terrified screaming and compressed it all into a single being, that is me right now."
"You'll do wonderfully," he assured her.
"Sure I will," she said, voice laden with sarcasm. "Hello, Falcon-you-can-call-me-Sam."
"Morning, Eva the pretty coffee girl," Sam grinned. "How's it going?"
"Much the better for being let into your super secret base," she replied, "it's very exciting. We should do this more often."
"Oh, we should," he said, and Cap coughed loudly behind him. "Anyway. Back to the work of a superhero."
"Yep." She waved goodbye to Vision, who raised a hand in response, and was shepherded out of the door. "What were they doing?" she asked her new guard friends.
"None of your business," muttered Pete.
"Fine. But the busier they get, the more likely I am to deliver here, so I suggest you get used to me."
A/N Security Pete for Douchebag of the Year 2k15