Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Marvel or the characters therein. Nor, sadly, do I make any moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.

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The Hustler

Scott Lang made his way over to pool table number twelve in the back of the hall. The table was surrounded by spectators, most of them riveted on the action going on at the table. He was able to make his way through the crowd and found himself watching a game of nine ball between a short rather hairy man and a petite woman with the craziest curls with attitude to spare.

"Really, Logan, if it were up to me, this business would be finished with. But as you know, politics has its own clock."

He muttered a curse when he managed to scratch. She went over, reached into the pocket, and pulled out the cue ball. She went to the head of the table, set up the shot and pocketed the three and seven balls. She was in the middle of standing up straight, when she saw Scott.

"I'll be with you in a sec…"

"This game ain't over…"

And before he managed to say the word, "…yet." She finished the game by pocketing the nine ball by bouncing the cue ball off of two of the rails and hitting the nine ball into the side pocket.

"You were saying?" she asked, as she walked away.

Hermione went over to Scott and said, "I heard you needed yourself a person that knows numbers."

"Not me," he said, looking over to Logan, who was now playing someone else. "Dr. Pym does."

"Dr. Pym? I would have thought he could take care of his own math," she murmured. "Want to get a drink? It's on me."

"Sure," he said, as he followed her over to the bar. "I'll have a beer."

"A coffee for me, Sal," she said with a smile. "And make it the good stuff."

The barrel-chested man let out a crack of laughter. "For you, doll face, anything!"

"You charmer!" She turned to Scott, telling him, "You're not on probation anymore?"

"Just ended," he told her, clearly still feeling burnt by what had happened. "What about you?"

"I was never on probation," she told him. "But as I am a citizen of the UK, my team of very skilled solicitors made it clear that I didn't have to sign the Accords."

"Lucky you," Scott said dryly.

"Yes, but Ross said that I can't enter the States. Which is why we are currently in Vancouver, if you didn't know."

"So you can't live in the United States ever again?"

"I'm what you can call a long lived individual," she told him, taking the coffee from Sal. "Chances are that I will not only outlive this dictate, but the man that tried to make it international law as well." She sipped on her coffee, winced as she muttered, "If this is the good coffee, I'd hate to drink the bad stuff." She put it back onto the bar, telling the man she was speaking to, "I'd love to help him, but given everything going on at the moment, I wouldn't be able to do much for him if he needed the work seen to right away."

"I get it. I'll see what can be done. I'm sure that we can set up a Zoom account for the two of you, if you can't meet face to face," he said with a sigh. "Where did you learn to play pool so well?"

Grinning, she asked, "Don't you know that pool is nothing more than angles and math?" Hopping off of the stool, she motioned him over to the pool table. Saying as she did so, "I'll show you all the numbers involved." Laughing, she added, "It'll be fun!"

"You and I have such different ideas of fun, lady."

The smile drooped a bit, telling him, "I get that a lot."

TBC…

…

And there's another oneshot down for the count. Thanks for reading and I hope you're all doing well. Stay in! Stay awesome!