Dusk had settled around New York City, the mid-August air hovering as the citizens moved about the sidewalks. Traffic ebbed and flowed, headlights flickering on and streetlights returning the flashes in kind. The bustle of the streets were less of a dull roar and more like bright murmurings that day, the coming night promising to be as lively as the day had been, with slight variations here and there. As the sun slid lower in the sky, the solitary A on the side of one of the tallest buildings in Manhattan lit up, acting once again as a bright beacon within the city's precincts.

High up in the Tower, the inner lights of the upper laboratory had brightened as well. At one of the workbenches along the far glass wall, a dark haired man was bent over what appeared to be a watch, disassembled and parts scattered liberally around it. He peered through a magnifying glass, delicately manipulating a piece of plating and some wires with pliers and a thin screwdriver, leaning away every now and again to consult a digital blueprint sitting on the tabletop nearby. Joining one wire to another, he let out an exultant breath as the connection was established. It had taken far too long to get the pieces to join together, and to finally do it flooded him with relief. Laying the tools down, he reached for the nearly empty coffee mug, wincing and almost spluttering when he sipped at the cold brew within. That was disgusting, and he pushed the mug away with alacrity. He really shouldn't have let it sit so long.

A chime echoed through the empty space, all the louder as JJ automatically turned down the rock music that had been playing in the background. With the announcement of the caller coming through, Stark nodded, accepting the request to video chat easily. It was about time for a check-in, might as well take the call.

"Hey Cap, how's everyone doing out in the sticks?" Tony asked, setting his project to one side and fully facing the digital display nearby, pushing his rolling stool closer. The man on the other end of the video call opened his mouth, preparing to answer, but he was cut off by his friend's next questions. "Have you all gone native? Anybody been challenged to a duel of banjos yet?"

Steve Rogers looked nonplussed for a moment, his head shaking minutely as he exhaled sharply out his nose. Raising a hand, he took his opportunity to speak, ticking his talking points off on his fingers as he went.

"Firstly, don't know what you're referencing, so the humor is lost on me." Steve smirked at Tony's tutting, but otherwise continued his speech. "Secondly, if I recall, you're the reason why we're out by the Adirondacks in the first place. Your choice, your preference, and it says more about you than us."

The billionaire tipped his head to one side, scoffing at the captain's jab, though there was a glimmer of humor in his dark irises.

"Keep thinking that, Rogers," he muttered. "Anyway, everything's good, yeah?"

The captain nodded, his blue eyes narrowing in concentration. "For the most part, yes. Been conferring with the overseas team, had a few incidents to patrol out there. The Maximoffs are off to Sokovia, checking on the recovery progress. Sam and I will be heading out to meet with them tomorrow."

Tony's eyebrows inclined at that. "You say you had to patrol some incidents? What, the new hires can't handle it on their own?"

"They can. They wanted fresh eyes to look at the situation, since they're a little too close," he told him. The glance he shot sideways intrigued Stark. After a beat of quiet, Tony inclined a single brow, met with one of Rogers'. Turning his hand over, he curled his fingers in a 'give it up' gesture. Steve sighed then, brow furrowing as he confessed, "And they're a little too green. Some of them, anyway. That kid, Jeanne, she's quite a handful. I don't know how Chapman keeps up with her on a daily basis."

Stark flexed back his shoulders, considering it. Well, the de facto leader of the smaller team had been part of MI5 prior to his new employment; if the gruff Liverpudlian couldn't figure out how to deal with a morose eighteen-year-old (let alone the elder Maximoff, who would literally run circles around him to prove a point), he wasn't sure who could.

"She's a newly-minted MIT grad. Trust me, we're all a little much at the beginning." Particularly when they graduated at a young age, he mused privately. From his understanding, the girl had just obtained her degree mere weeks before she was approached to join the extended Avengers program. Her reputation had preceded her: hard-nosed, a hard ass with an exceptional mind. Yeah, 'handful' likely didn't begin to cover it. Snickering under his breath, Stark continued, "Except for yours truly, of course. Well, maybe it just takes a little finesse. All in the name of union, Jack."

A few seconds of silence, accompanied by Steve's eyes rapidly blinking.

"Dear God, you must be out of your mind with boredom if you're stooping to the level of making codename-based puns, Stark."

"Oh, you have no idea," the billionaire returned, a blank look on his face. "I might have to put a Cap on them, I've got so many stored up."

Absurdly winking to punctuate the statement, he grinned when the blond man on the screen reluctantly started to chuckle. Even if it was done more out of disbelief than anything else, he would take it.

"Keep going, and I'll extend your probationary period," the other man threatened when he finished, sitting up straight and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say," Tony brushed his remark off, tapping his fingers along the side of the screen to pull up the compilation of documents he'd been storing up. Flashing a quick look at Steve, he went on, "Been some incidents out here, too."

A dark blond eyebrow arched, and the captain inclined his head. "More with the masked man?"

At that moment, Tony took the time to open his documents, reading off the news reports he'd taken the liberty of gathering. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen, as the man had started being dubbed, was surfacing closer and closer. Repeated appearances and defense in the public were bringing him out of the shadows, and the self-proclaimed Iron Man, while not altogether confident in the fellow's abilities (or the state of his mental health; who fought without being able to see their opponents, he wondered), knew that it would be important to keep tabs on the guy. The guy who was basically operating in his backyard, so to speak.

"Him, and a few reports concerning a private investigator. Sneaking under the radar when the whole Hell's Kitchen crap was ramping up," he reported, dashing off the records he had and emailing them to the leader as he spoke. "According to SHIELD intel—well, the stuff Nat didn't manage to dump on the Internet—she's been on the radar for some time, but she was off the grid until recently. The city's getting stirred up something fierce since the team vacated."

Picking up his tablet to look at the files sent to him, Rogers stopped, staring at him.

"...You broke into the old SHIELD intel network, again?"

"You can't even call it 'breaking into' when the passwords are so easy to figure out." Off Steve's deadpan glance, Tony spread his arms out, gesturing to the air. "I'm not allowed out in the field until September; I've got to find some way to occupy my time, and Pepper does need to sleep, eventually." Pausing to let the partially-true joke sink in, he screwed up his brow as he thought back on the captain's words. "Wait, I give you juicy criminal activity gossip and the thing you took from it was me reading some out-of-date files?"

A baleful look was shot at him, and he cupped his hand in the air, saying nothing else. For a moment, he just let the captain examine the files he had sent, a finger tapping and swiping every few seconds. Soon enough, though, he had more to say.

"Are they really criminals, Tony? By that logic, we're criminals, too," Steve pointed out, his gaze narrowing at the tablet in his hand. Eyes flicked up briefly, catching the billionaire's shrug and head tilt. "We just happen to be ones with public endorsement."

"I knew the Boy Scout thing was fake," Tony crowed in mock triumph. After the captain dutifully rolled his eyes and groaned, he grinned. Slowly, though, the mirth dripped away, and he was left contemplating what he had just been told. "You think they're not?"

The glance his friend gave him spoke volumes, but he did deign to answer verbally, as well.

"I think we don't have all the facts yet. And until we do, we can't make judgment calls," he pronounced carefully. Letting out a slow breath, he murmured, "I do appreciate you keeping an eye and ear out for everything happening there, though."

Tony dipped his chin at the acknowledgment. "Glad to hear all my good work isn't going to waste."

"It isn't, truly," Steve reaffirmed. Setting the tablet to the side again, he breathed out carefully, inclining his head as another question came to mind. "How are things working out with Parker?"

A corner of Stark's mouth lifted. Ah, the kid from Queens. It had been a stroke of luck that brought the young teenager into the billionaire's circle; the amateur photographer had been hired for the captain's wedding, but he had impressed Tony enough to actually compel him to part with one of his business cards. Encouraging the boy to contact him had been an interesting move, made even more so by the kid actually getting in touch with him two days later. Enrolling him in the internship program, he'd kept an eye on Parker—he was the most competent of the bunch, and considering that he had just turned fifteen at the beginning of June, that was saying a lot.

"The kid shows promise. I've got him tending to a couple of little side projects on his own at the moment, see how he handles them. He does well enough, who knows?" Tony crossed his arms, lifting a shoulder slightly. Despite the offhand way he was speaking, there was no mistaking the leap of confidence and pride in the boy he had (unconsciously) started to consider his protege. So far, Peter was meeting every expectation, his bright young mind absorbing all that he was told, and his inquisitive nature allowing him to approach the problems presented to him with a fresh eye. Tony looked forward to his final presentation on the thirtieth. "I might keep him around through the school year, make him a paid intern."

Steve nodded, a corner of his mouth lifting. "I had a feeling the two of you would get along."

"Once he was broken of the hero worship," the billionaire admitted, pulling a face at the memories of the early days. The poor kid was so enamored with the idea of working in the Tower, and for him, that he didn't seem to have his head on straight. He was broken very quickly of that behavior. "Though he still blathers on about you from time to time."

"He's a good kid, be nice," the captain admonished him, cocking his eyebrow and quirking his lips. Lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender, Tony snorted and sat back in his seat.

"Yes, Mother." Dark brown eyes focused on the screen, the layer of concern beneath the cockiness bleeding through. "Everyone's okay out there?"

Hearing the shift in the tone, Steve shuffled in his seat, canting his head to the side. "As good as we can be. Still adjusting to the changes, but it's better than the early days."

"Good, good," Tony said, sounding distant for a moment. It felt so odd, getting reports in that way, as if he were not even part of the team any longer. No matter how much Rogers had emphasized his importance and continued inclusion on the roster (imposed 'vacation' notwithstanding). Part of him was bothered by it, if he were being honest, and yet...well. Glancing down, he picked at a loose thread on his layered tee, seemingly ignoring his brief bout of melancholy. "If I hear anything else, I'll call in."

"Sounds good," Steve told him, witness to the quiet but keeping his thoughts to himself. A voice called to him then, from off-screen, and he half-turned in his seat. Going by the feminine tone and the unbidden brightening in the captain's expression, he had to surmise that his friend's wife was asking him something. Quickly, he responded, telling her that he would be with her, soon. Giving the camera, and consequently him, one last look, seriousness invaded his tone. "Take care of yourself, Tony."

"Yeah, I will. You, too," Stark replied, managing a grin as he waggled his fingers in farewell. One more nod, and the other man reached out, turning off the screen on his end and terminating the call.

"At least you've been doing that much," a familiar, mellow tone spoke up behind him, pulling him back from the mire of his private thoughts. Pivoting in the stool, Tony felt warmth pulse through his body, driving out the cold that had invaded during his work time. In the doorway, leaning against the jamb, was Pepper. Out of her professional attire, she was dressed down in an old shirt of his, loose slacks encasing her legs. Her light red hair was down, draped around her shoulders and face. More important was her expression: though tired, she had a smile on her lips, one that he returned gratefully.

"Eavesdropper," he admonished her, smirking withal. The grin turned a tad rueful as he focused on the toe of his shoe. "Well, it was your suggestion that I might, uh, well—"

"Need help? Honey, we all have been suggesting that for years," she jokingly told him, crossing the room to step into the V of his legs. Once she got close enough, his arms went around her waist, palms pressing into the small of her back. Tenderly, she carded through his close-cropped hair, sighing deeply. "You're still going, right?"

There was no hesitation in his answer. "Yep. Even penciled in for..."

"Wednesday, 3:30 in the afternoon," his new, trusty AI swooped in to save him. "Dr. Branson was open to your idea of bringing donuts."

"Thanks, JJ," he told him, looking up into Pepper's gaze. He had made her, and himself, a promise. It was one he intended to keep. Though the probationary period was somewhat enforced, he could not say that he was overly upset by it happening. He needed the time, needed to prioritize his life and tend to himself. Truly tend to himself, and not put on a front like he had time and time again. He needed to be put in check; the whole fiasco with Ultron had shown him that much. And he needed to do it for himself, before things got worse. Tipping his head to the left, he mumbled, "Getting in touch with all my feelings and junk. Delving ever deeper into my daddy issues, and the anxiety...it's fun. Like getting on a Gravitron with a full stomach twice weekly, but instead of blowing chunks I blow emotional baggage all over the place before I'm allowed out."

Pepper's grin came out more like a wince.

"Still...fewer distractions," she noted quietly. Deep down, she knew that it would be impossible for Tony to give up everything for the sake of his own recovery, but what he did do was manageable. He was becoming more involved in the company again, attentive to the interns and the labs at the Tower, the number of his suits down to a decent number. He was more present, now, present in the world...and with her. She missed him terribly, not the arrogance or the inflated pride of the past, but for who he was genuinely, the part of him that had heart and compassion. That side was getting closed off far too much, to protect himself as more and more people tried to destroy the pieces of good in his soul. The danger of losing him had loomed on the horizon, and it took almost losing the world to understand that. Rebuilding the damage would be a monumental task, but she knew he could do it. She knew he was doing it, little by little. Less Iron Man, more Tony Stark, he was learning to strike a balance, which was all she ever really wanted for him.

For both of them, really; it was hard enough managing a tech conglomerate when the owner was having regular life-threatening escapades and meltdowns. It kind of brought down the romance when those things happened, she mused sardonically. Wisely, though, she held her tongue on that regard. Leaning forward, he rested his head on her chest, his hold on her tighter as her hands skimmed down his back.

"No cocoon. Not this time. Just me," he almost whispered, reveling in her caresses. He'd missed her, too, more than he could possibly ever express. He, the man with a thousand excuses and witticisms at his disposal, was still rendered a verbal mess by the emotion the woman in his arms made him feel. He'd agreed, he'd promised, and he meant to keep it. Her lips pressed the top of his head, and he sighed deeply.

"Good. Now, it's starting to get late, and I'm only here for fifteen more hours," she said, stepping back to look at him directly. Smoothly, she trailed her arms from around him, fingertips brushing from his shoulders to his palms to lace her grip with his. Tugging on them and forcing him to stand up, she began to back out of the space, her bright gaze never wavering from his. He followed her, eyebrow arching as she smiled devilishly. "How about you come downstairs and we make those hours count, Mr. Stark?"

Once again, there was no hesitation in his answer. Lifting a hand, he used the motion detector to shut off the lights in the lab, ready and willing to leave the work for the time being and do as she asked.

"Absolutely, Ms. Potts."

xXxXxXx

The extraction division of the Avengers base was relatively quiet, given that it was mostly formed for the major disasters that cropped up every now and again. Lately, the world had contented itself with smaller dealings, and so those who were assigned to that area, consequently, held titles in other parts of the organization. One such individual who belonged to the division was currently finishing up her work for the other she participated in: weapons and gear testing. Kay Szymik blew at the strands of bright blue hair that swung into her face, focusing intently on the tactical armor she had been supplied. It would be mass-produced for on-duty agents to use in the field, once it passed inspection. And if any piece could pass her inspection on the first go, she would be mightily impressed.

After all, her Inhuman abilities put her above the standard. Her incredible strength allowed her to shred Kevlar with her bare hands. Still, she had to scale back, knowing she had been assigned the extra tasks at Fury's behest to test her limits. It was a secret assignation, one that would determine how far she could go without drawing attention to the truth of her being. Twisting and turning in the uniform, she snorted to herself; she already drew enough attention with the hair, which was permanent and unable to be dyed any other color for very long. Still, she had to admit that suit she was wearing was holding up thus far. That is, until she went to bend over and roll. The ripping caught her off-guard, and she immediately straightened, huffing under her breath. Well, that was fun while it lasted.

Glimpsing the clock on the far wall, the hands just clicking past five o'clock, she determined she'd done enough for one day, and went to change back into her casual wear. On the way out, she dumped the uniform on the desk of the designer, silently pointing at the broken weave between the back panels and inclining an eyebrow. His groans followed her out the door, and despite his irritation at her finding defects in yet another piece of his, she couldn't help but laugh to herself (though she knew it was cruel to do so).

Shaking her head, she fished her phone out of her pocket, swinging one strap of her backpack over her shoulder as she walked slowly through the halls. It had been a few hours since the last text message had come in, but she couldn't help herself. An update on the Falcon's departure from the base, with a wish for her to take care of herself while he was away. It was followed by a promise to get in touch when he had a moment to himself, a kissy-face emoji punctuating it. She'd rolled her eyes, grinning despite herself. It was cutesy and corny as hell, and he knew she disliked the sappiness the emoticon provoked. Damn teasing son of a...

"Hey!" Kay stopped in her tracks, glancing around to find who had called out to her. From the hall to her left, the wing that led down to archives, she spotted the young woman picking up the pace to catch up with her. Her grin remained in place, her phone tucked hurriedly away before she waved at her. Holly Rogers quickened her pace, her sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor. For a moment, Kay envied her; there was some merit to having an office job, particularly an office job where the dress code was relaxed. When she got close enough, Holly smiled wide, combing back her loose hair and exhaling sharply. "Haven't seen you around lately."

That was true enough. While Kay wouldn't say they were the best of friends, the two women had formed a sort of bond, drawn together due to the other woman's lack of familiarity with the staff and Kay's general caution of her coworkers. A couple of times a week, they would break for lunch together, talking shop or whatever else was on their minds during the day. For the last few days, though, Kay had been deeply involved in her testing and other projects and had to cry off...which she was not pleased with, as it turned out. Despite the very different backgrounds the two women had come from, they had worked together reasonably well during rescue and evacuation operations in Sokovia. They weren't the closest, but she did like her.

"Or so you'd like to think," she retorted, chuckling along with her. Dipping her chin, she wondered, "What's up?"

Holly's hands began to fidget, removing themselves from the strap of the bag over her shoulder and tucking into the ends of her sleeves. A nervous habit, one that had not been broken in the short few months that Kay had known her. Lifelong habit, like her own hair tugging when she was concentrating hard on something.

"Um, well, Steve's on mission for the next couple of days, with some of the team. I was wondering if maybe you'd like to swing by the apartment, maybe watch a movie or something?"

"In other words, distract you while your husband's out on duty?" The guilty slide of the other woman's eyes told her she had hit the mark. She didn't blame her, though, for reaching out. If she had been in her position—alone, far from the place she'd considered home for a good amount of time and her closest companions unable to be by her side—she'd probably ask for someone to stick around, too. And, honestly, she didn't mind the request. Glancing down at her silent phone, she let out an inaudible sigh and nodded. It wasn't like she had other plans for the evening...that time. "...Sure. I can do that."

She softened the acquiescence with a grin, and Kay was pleased to see the brightness return to Holly's expression. Gesturing for her to lead the way, she walked behind her, feigning ignorance as they went into the elevators at the back of the base. Her eyes glanced across the scanner, as if she had never seen it before, as if she had not followed another through the door, giggling quietly as he struggled to both open it and hold onto her at the same time. Passing security clearance, she could at least say that she was able to actually see the place in daylight. The common area was empty, as the Avengers who had remained behind were tending to themselves, so it gave Holly the chance to stand in the center of the room, rotating around it and pointing out the living quarters as she went. First were her own, shared with the captain, followed by the reserve suite that would be opened to any visiting team members. Ticking them off one by one, the agent nodded with slight interest as she went.

"And over there is—"

"Sam's apartment," Kay cut in, a brief flash crossing her irises visible as Holly turned a questioning look at her. Inwardly, she was kicking herself for letting that slip. Quickly, she hooked her thumb at the bank of doors her companion had indicated before, a swift cover pulled out. "You pointed out a bunch of the others. It was a logical jump to make."

"Yeah..." she intoned carefully, scanning the agent's face for another odd flicker. What was that all about? Shrugging her shoulders, she pivoted on her heel, leading the way towards the quarters she lived in. "Fair point."

Inside the captain's quarters, Kay found that the place had more homey touches to it than Sam's apartment. The furniture there was not the standard modern cut and set she was used to seeing, the stuff that had been provided to those upon moving onto the base; no, the place reminded her very much of her own digs. Everything was lived-in and well-loved, from the comfy couch all the way to the messy bed (so she peeked while Holly was in the bathroom; she was, by nature and by profession, curious). Seeing it, she began to understand why the winged Avenger seemed to prefer her place to his. A quick dinner of spaghetti—easily made, and therefore suiting their purposes well—was had, the discussion of which movie to select distracting them for a time. Eventually, the choice landed on one of the Peter Jackson films, the first of the second franchise. Kay had confessed to seeing the first trilogy, but not the second, and Holly decided right then she had to at least watch the beginning. On the plus side, the guy who was playing the dwarf prince was good-looking; she could always appreciate that.

By the time the hobbit onscreen was storming off down the lane, declaring that he was about to go on an adventure, her phone vibrated on the coffee table, where she had perched it precariously next to her companion's. Without thinking, they both reached for it, with Holly grabbing it up. Realizing she'd grabbed the wrong device, she shrugged and opened her mouth to apologize, her gaze widening when she chanced a look at the new message notification. As Kay feared, she swiftly turned it around, Sam's name displayed starkly on the screen. She knew she should've changed his name in her contacts, she groused inwardly, taking the device away. Swiping at the message, she viewed his request for her to call him once he got to his rooms in London, his eagerness to hear from her holding a decidedly lusty edge. The telling smirk stretching her lips jarred Holly out of her trance-like staring, bringing her back into the present.

"Oh my..." she breathed. Her gaze narrowed curiously, and Kay could detect no malice in her expression. "So you and Sam are...?"

At once, Kay straightened her spine, on alert. "Depends on what you're asking."

Her companion 's eyelids went down, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm guessing that's an agent deflection for 'yes.'"

"Something like."

Waving her fingers, she sat up, tucking her legs under her and leaning forward slightly. For a moment, she looked like a teenager, raring to hear some gossip.

"Okay, for how long?"

Kay, in spite of wanting to behave calm and cool about it all, grinned and giggled. "Again, depends. Are you asking how long we've been hanging out, or since we've been hooking up?"

"Um...both, I guess," Holly said, brow furrowing at the distinction needing to be made. Kay tucked her hair behind her ear before scrubbing a hand over her face. She had to go and tease her with information, and for some reason, instead of lying, she felt compelled to be honest.

"To the first, a month and a half, and to the second, about two months."

"Wow. Just, wow," the other woman crooned, leaning back into the cushions. No doubt she was confused about the endeavor going on under her nose, under all the Avengers' noses, for that length of time. Soon enough, she confirmed her thoughts outwardly. "How did I not hear about this?"

"Nobody has, really. And that's by design." Entanglements, of any variety, were not exactly encouraged back when she had worked for SHIELD, and she did not imagine the rules had changed when the organization formed again. Not only that, she would be setting herself up to public scrutiny for getting involved with one of the Avengers themselves. Every part of her being and her training had screamed for her to keep it a secret, for as long as they could. Sam had agreed to her requests when she first laid them out: no labels, not open displays of affection...it had to be just the two of them, in private. "We're...attached, but we what we do have, we don't want to get out."

A thump beat through her heart, but she squashed it down, her black gaze appealing to Holly as they sat. The movie continued to play on as the brunette across from her nodded slowly.

"Not a word, I swear." She mimed the locking of her lips and tossing away the key, an attempt at joviality.

Kay snorted. "Yeah, because you're going to keep this a secret from Captain America."

Stern eyes turned to her, which took her aback slightly. Evidently, the woman didn't like the implication she was making.

"If you don't want me to say anything, I won't. Just because I have a tendency to be forthright doesn't mean I can't keep my mouth shut if I'm asked," she reminded her, a knowing look shot at her. Kay inclined her head, understanding the truth of her words. The captain's wife was already keeping a secret of hers; not a breath of her knowledge of her status as an Inhuman had passed her lips, and the agent was certain of it. True to her promise, she had been keeping an eye on Holly, and as yet she'd heard nothing about herself in the gossip mill that circulated the base. Cupping a hand in the air, Holly continued, "If you were threatening to blow up the world or something, then yeah, I'd rat you out—"

"And there goes my evil plot," was the quick jest, Kay snickering to herself as Holly spoke over it.

"—But hey, this is your business. Seriously."

She punctuated the words with an inclination of the head, a hand held out. For several long seconds, Kay stared at her, determining the legitimacy of her words. Slowly, carefully, she placed her hand in her companion's, shaking it solemnly. For so long, she did not trust, not fully, not anyone outside her little haven inside SHIELD. Once that was gone, she was lost, left with nobody to express herself to. Left with no friends, left on her own. There was a difference between self-sufficiency and loneliness, and she had learned the difference the hard way. She was shown the fallacy in keeping everything about herself in, and had decided that, perhaps on some points, she could try to trust again.

"...Okay."

The curious flare, though, had not fallen away from her, and Kay braced herself for more. As expected, the other woman pointed a finger at her.

"Just one thing, though, and then I'll drop it."

"Alright, one thing," the agent agreed, tipping her palm out and gesturing for her to ask. "Go."

The brunette chewed on her lip for a second, looking as though she might not want to say anything, after all. Soon enough, though, she cleared her throat, tilting her head to the side.

"You were hooking up before hanging out?"

The grin Kay sported went from casual to wolfish in a matter of seconds. "With some things, I don't like being subversive. Getting straight to the point was better in that case. Much better."

Holly blinked rapidly, shaking her head violently as if to dislodge any mental images that had cropped up. The blue-haired woman lifted a shoulder, laughing outwardly at her plight.

"Okay, that's...that's enough for me, thank you," her companion murmured in a deadpan tone. The chuckles continued as they both turned their attentions back to the movie.

xXxXxXx

Tension invaded the atmosphere, threatened to choke them as they made their way to the capitol building. Whispers and murmurings followed them as they climbed the steps, fingers pointing as they walked. Comments flew fast and hard, barely intelligible. The auburn-haired woman cocked an eyebrow at her silver-tressed sibling, who merely returned the expression with a shrug and a smirk. It was common for them to be stared at now, common for people to speak in hushed tones, asking about their purpose and their presence, no matter where they'd appeared.

Pietro had, however, hoped that the mutterings would have petered off whenever they returned to Sokovia. Wanda had told him that such a wish would remain forever in the realm of fantasy. Their days of anonymity were over the moment they declared themselves Avengers.

The twins were deputized by the organization to meet with one of the city councilmen in the capital, to be apprised of the rebuilding efforts and report on the progress. They had been sent on ahead of the others, their citizenship used as the excuse to open up communication with the rest of the team. It was a welcome reunion for the brother and sister, even if it had to involve work. With them residing on different sides of the globe—she in New York state, he in England—it was hard enough to check in with one another. At least that way, they could see for themselves that the other was alright. Both of them were downright thriving in their separate environments, with Wanda's training making her powers more formidable and Pietro's tenacity gaining him a foothold in the hierarchy with the secondary team. Still, there was a hope that they could be meeting under better circumstances.

On the positive side, they were able to converse without the fear of being shot at, he'd pointed out, with Wanda rolling her eyes at the statement. Sokovia was still recovering from the battle that had torn Novi Grad apart months ago, but relief efforts to repair the damage had gone above and beyond expectations. Companies were taking an interest in the small nation, eager to help rebuild it in the hope that it may open new channels of trade and commerce. The government, strapped for support and cash as always, were more than willing to do so; boosting the economy after the tragedy in such a way could only be beneficial. The twins were there to make sure the beneficiaries were receiving what they needed, and to see if the relief suppliers were making any undue demands. So far, Novi Grad's gaping downtown was being built back up, piece by piece. The councilman they were meeting with promised as much, showing them photographs and video feeds of the progress once they'd made the pleasantries and retired to his private office. Pietro scanned the reports with interest, adopting an air of confidence to combat the niggling feeling of inadequacy in his gut.

"And what about the base?" he asked after a moment, jabbing a finger at the building in question. Strucker's illicitly purchased base had been a holding cell for both his sister and him before the Avengers' intervention at the end of April. It was a breeding ground for darkness and manipulation, and it had remained untouched during the disaster. Its stark, stone walls cut a swatch against the treeline, a reminder of failures and mistakes. He grimaced upon looking at it; he wanted to know exactly what was to happen to it, now that it was revealed for the haven of evil that it had been. "What is being done with the property?"

"The property itself will be converted into a museum and memorial for those lost in May," the councilman conceded, folding his hands and placing them on his desktop. "We are hoping the proceeds can be used towards future rebuilding projects."

"How long will that take? From what we understand, there is still a good deal of equipment left over from the HYDRA occupation to remove," the elder Maximoff responded. He more than understood how much was left to remove; he'd had to help haul pieces himself between hideouts.

"We have already begun the process of removing it. All major pieces, as you know, have been sent on to the United Nations for safekeeping and inspection, while others...well, we've been selling as memorabilia." The councilman sighed in sorrow. The country was truly in a tight spot, needing all the money it could get to form homes and businesses again, get the citizens back in the sister city as soon as could be. After years of war and revolutions, it was tough to find any to use. It was why the government had had to sell it in the first place...something they deeply regretted doing now. "With Baron Von Strucker gone, and his son disappeared, there is no one left to claim it, and besides that, it was seized the moment we realized it was all owned by a terrorist cell."

Wanda shot a look to her brother, the air around them suddenly thick. "Who has been buying the pieces?"

"All sorts, collectors mostly."

She arched an eyebrow, and Pietro could practically hear the wheels of her mind churning. "Any particular names on that list? Anybody buying multiple times or in a massive sweep?"

That made the older brother pay attention. Before their arrival, they had been told by both Rogers and Chapman to stay on alert for something of that nature. From what they'd implied, collectors of HYDRA memorabilia were often not that at all. The baron had used that title as a front to get the equipment he'd needed to mount his offensives, to create them. Somebody else with a proper amount of intelligence and determination could do the same.

"We have a few," confessed the councilman, sweeping a hand through his thinning black hair. Pietro's heart sank upon hearing the words, but he kept his mouth shut as the man continued speaking. "We are monitoring the sales, but so far everyone has checked out as clean. But that's only as far as we know."

Green eyes focused on a point over the councilman's head, the younger Maximoff's face donning a blank expression. Recognizing the disturbance in his sister's countenance, Pietro smoothly took over the conversation again, lighting on what he hoped would be the correct course of action.

"We need that list, as soon as possible," he told the councilman, shooting another glance at Wanda as the older gentleman nodded. With promises to return quickly with the list, the fellow left them alone in the office, the ticking of the clock on the wall permeating the quiet he'd left behind.

"What do you think it means, sister?" Pietro asked after a few moments, leaning closer to her and keeping his tone low. Something about the information given was upsetting her, or perhaps it was an impression of the fellow's soul that had her on alert and suspicious...had him suspicious, too. He wanted to hear her say it, confirm the sinking in his stomach as not merely being a coincidence. Carefully, she cut her gaze to him. Something about the whole situation seemed off, making her gut twist as she heard it. Within it all, something was wrong. In her mind, she could hear the Black Widow instructing her to trust her instincts, to understand her gut feelings and to use them as needed.

"I think that whoever is willing to buy HYDRA equipment in mass quantities at a knockdown price must have a reason for doing so," she told him, each word pronounced carefully. Her hands dropped into her lap, rings being twisted on her fingers as she considered everything. "Particularly since we know for a fact that they aren't as dead as the world wishes them to be."

Pietro nodded, a frown coming to his lips. It was just as he suspected, too.

"I'll ask around, see if anybody has noticed anything suspicious," he said, rising from his chair and passing the papers to her. Huffing out a short breath, he shot another glance at the clock. "What time will the captain be coming?"

She peered at the photographs, canting her head to one side. "Should be a few hours. Sam will be coming with him."

In point of fact, they should have been in the air by then, their departure from London happening as soon as Pietro had guided her to a tram, ready to face the bureaucrats on their own. Jerking his chin up, the elder twin scratched at the back of his neck.

"Okay. I'll ask around, call in to Joe, and meet you later, then," he said, hands planting on his hips as the plan formulated.

Wanda looked up at him, her gaze raking over her brother. Sisterly concern decorated her features, and she let out a sharp breath.

"Be safe, Pietro."

He smirked at her, even as he bent to wrap an arm around her shoulders and plant a kiss in her hair.

"When am I not?"

"Surprisingly often," she scoffed, rolling her eyes and grinning despite her resolve otherwise. If she wanted, she could take the time to recite a number of instances in the recent past that demonstrated his rashness (the incidents during the battle in May came to mind; he could very well have been killed then). However, it was not the time for such things to be brought up. Reaching up, she patted his forearm, tipping her head towards the door. "Go now."

With a final nod, Pietro sped away, blue and white mist left in his wake as he vanished. Perhaps there would be nothing to report when he returned, and perhaps what she was feeling was just a nervous suspicion, brought on by nothing more than fanciful thought. Still, the Scarlet Witch could not make herself ignore the tightness inside. There was something wrong in the little confession the councilman had made. She just did not know what it was. Yet.

A/N: ...I'm still sort of stuck in the multiple-POV mode that I had to adopt for TEH, so the first few chapters of the story will likely be me doing that, edging slowly back into a mainly Steve/Holly storyline. Still, now that I've incorporated the larger universe into these stories, I will be shifting to the others on occasion. Which is why I have Tony taking the lead this time around.

One of the major problems with CW that I had is how thrashed Tony's life becomes (one of several problems, really). A lot of what he's doing strikes me as trying to regain some control and stability, particularly with what is happening canonically with Pepper. It's something that he should've started doing much sooner, and it doesn't seem that he really has ever truly taken care of himself ever since his abduction. I don't want that for him. I think he is intelligent enough to see his own defects and hurts, and he would at least try to do something about it (you can see it in the way he opens up to Bruce in Iron Man 3; he wants help, he just needed to figure out how and where to actually get it from). Plus, I've been a Pepperony fan since Day-Freakin'-1. C'mon, Marvel; stop tearing down what you've built for the sake of drama.

Also, we get the first hints of villainy cropping up at the end there. It will be a slow build to the reveal of the dark side coming to light, but it is starting. Lastly, for those of you who are new: this is probably the point where you realize that I was serious about reading the first two stories before this one. Because Pietro's alive here, so...yeah...

Next time, we're going to make the jump into September, and possibly get into some house-hunting, and other things...perhaps a mention of another super-soldier, who knows? ;)

I own nothing from the MCU, including Agents of SHIELD/Daredevil/Jessica Jones, nor Marvel comics (shout-out to Finesse—whose age I did raise in order to allow her to work on the secondary team—and Union Jack) or any other pop culture references (The Hobbit and the Gravitron definitely don't belong to me) I have made in the text.

Thanks for reading, please review, and I'll see you all for the next one!