Introducing (sort of) the rest of the villains so far. They were suggested by Kagirinai and Maximus Potter. Thanks, guys!


A private jet landed near Philadelphia, a respectable distance away from too many prying eyes – although the electronic ones were impossible to escape nowadays. The pilot had been specifically ordered to pick up the sole passenger all the way from China, and he was more than happy to oblige and accept the generous pay check he received from the job. The payment had been enough for both doing the job well and not asking questions. The pilot had been told that their passenger was a diplomat, someone with delicate business in the United States, so it made sense to travel privately and avoid public airports. What the pilot hadn't been told was that his passenger would never pass the security checks of a public airport.

The pilot, who was known to his neighbours as Mr. Greene and to his friends as just Bob, glanced over his shoulder at the door that obscured his view of the luxurious side where the passenger sat. His passenger had seemed like a cheery fellow. The man spoke English a bit brokenly but had a very impressive vocabulary. He was dressed in a sharp business suit, nothing traditionally Oriental anywhere. Mr. Greene couldn't be sure of the man's appearance because of the man's shades and classy, brimmed hat. He guessed the man would look, well, Asian under the hat and sunglasses. Mr. Greene was racist in the ignorant, innocent sort of way that mostly meant no harm.

Mr. Greene pressed a button that routed his voice into the plane's speakers.

"We'll be landing in about fifteen minutes. I thank you for flying with us. Have a very nice day, sir."

The announcement was maybe a bit informal for a Chinese diplomat, but it was the best Mr. Greene could do. He was a simple man who didn't really know nor care about licking the boots of important people. There were a lot of things he didn't know about. He didn't know that the diplomat he had just flown to the USA had a very aggressive idea of diplomacy. He didn't know that the nausea he was starting to feel was because of radiation sickness or that he would die from a sniper's bullet to the brain a couple of hours later. He simply landed his jet with professional ease and let the enigmatic Chinese man step out into a cab that was already waiting.

He could have sworn he saw the back of the man's neck glowing green.


Several dozen miles from the place where the glowing man had landed, a man and a woman walked on a crowded street and drew quite a lot of looks from everyone around them. It wasn't that they looked odd; they were simply conspicuous. The woman was gorgeous, and that alone was enough to make everyone stare at her. She was tall, with curves that were usually seen in films or magazines, and not in real life. They were accentuated by the simple yet obviously expensive green dress she was wearing. Her blonde hair was long and flowed in the wind in an almost unearthly way. The man with her would have gone unnoticed next to her attention hogging beauty if he weren't so huge; if one wanted to get a good look at the woman, one would inevitably have a view of the man as well. He had the kind of muscles you got only by spending countless of obsessive hours in the gym. He was scowling in a way that effectively kept even the boldest of tough guys at bay and trailed after the woman like a silent bodyguard. Although, those who thought that the woman would need a bodyguard were dead wrong.

The woman adjusted the sunglasses on her face and took a sharp right turn, her high heels clacking hollowly against the street. She stopped in front of a building that didn't stand out from the rest of the concrete blocks in any way. She dug out a small piece of paper from a bag and read it once more to make sure she had the right address. It was. She motioned the man to follow and opened the shaded glass door. Once inside, she closed the paper into her fist, opened it, and let ashes fall on the floor.


"Some of your people have come to Earth."

Thor stared at the woman in front of him. He had not expected to hear this. Some of his people? Why would they wish to come here? Well, unless some had been banished like he had once been. Or were his brother, the trickster who had wanted to take over Earth at one point. But Loki was dead now. Thor spared a moment of internal silence at his brother. Loki had redeemed himself the best he could in the end. And the rest of his people should be recovering from the war against the Dark Elves.

"What do you mean?" he managed to ask.

"Exactly what I said," Mother Nature looked back at Thor, her stormy eyes grey and golden at the same time, "They have hidden well from everyone, even me. But now it has gone on enough. I want them gone."

Thor frowned sceptically.

"I have not been informed of this at all."

"They must have come here secretly, then," Mother Nature shrugged her shoulders, "But I know they are here nonetheless. I thought you should be warned."

"Are they here with ill intentions?" Thor asked, still not sure what to make of this. He supposed this woman would be the one to sense if something was wrong on Earth. She was bound to be deeply in tune with the planet. Still, why would she start accusing his people of it?

"I am fairly sure they are," Mother Nature said darkly, "And in any case, this is not the place for them. I don't want to watch people breaking into this world on their whims. They have caused nothing but trouble."

Thor took a step forward. No matter who she was, this woman had no right to insult his people.

"I will not hear such slander! We have no intention to break in here!"

"Yet here you are."

Thor clenched his hands into fists. Mother Nature did not seem fazed by it.

"You I can tolerate, Mr. Odinson," she said, but Thor could hear it wasn't really an attempt at diplomacy, merely a statement, "You kept Loki at bay when he was wreaking havoc. Now I want you to take care of those other two. Take them back home."

Thor frowned.

"Why should I take orders from you? You call me here to insult Asgard and then expect me to fight my own people?"

"It doesn't have to go that far," Mother Nature said, "I came to you specifically so you would find a more diplomatic route. They will no doubt ignore my pleas, but they might listen to you. If that fails, I will step in."

Clouds above them darkened until they were inky black. Thor could feel the sharp wind through his jacket. Had he been a human, he would have been shivering madly.

"What if they aren't here to cause harm? Would you risk Asgard's anger because of this?" Thor snapped.

"They are trespassers!" Mother Nature's voice suddenly became thunderous, less like a woman and more like a force of nature, "They have scared the Earth itself. I will not stand for it! Don't you see, Mr. Odinson? The boundaries of this world are so frayed almost anyone could step through! If someone doesn't make a stand, the Earth could be overrun at any time!"

She took a deep breath.

"This isn't war, Mr. Odinson. I am simply protecting this world."

Thor slowly let his hands relax. He could see that Mother Nature was ready to wage one woman war even against Asgard itself just to protect Earth if she had to. He had to admit that he might do the same if it really came down to that. But...

"I will not fight without a good reason," Thor said finally, "But if there really are my people here, I do wish to find them."

Mother Nature nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Odinson. There are two of them. A man and a woman. I don't know their names, but they have been hiding in Northern Germany for a while now."

"So you do not know where they are for certain?"

Mother Nature's smile was very hollow.

"I know they have been in contact with a man named Heinrich Zemo, but that is the most I can tell. Perhaps you can talk to your friends about this. They seem to have good connections. If that assassin doesn't kill them first, that is."

"What assassin?" Thor frowned, worry overwriting everything else for a moment.

"Your friends should know," Mother Nature said without sounding worried at all, "I am not one to contact humans."

"Aye..." Thor sighed, "Are you as invisible to them as the Guardians are?"

Mother Nature nodded.

"I am not even sure when it all started. I suppose the difference is that I don't care whether they see me or not."

Thor looked at the lonely woman, who had perhaps been lonely for so long that she did not even feel it, and felt a spark of compassion.

"Very well," he said, "I will take your warning to heart. Let me take care of this."

"I will. But I will be watching."

With those rather ominous words, Mother Nature was gone, leaving only an apprehensive silence. Morning dew had frozen on the leaves, but Thor could see the ice melting when Mother Nature and her worries left the park.


Pepper hated the sound of the hospital machines beeping. Her more primitive side would have wanted to test if there was enough Extremis virus left in her to smash the machines with her bare hands. But that would be stupid, not to mention counterproductive for Tony's survival. So she settled for passive-aggressive glaring whenever she wanted something to get her mind off the fact that her boyfriend was barely clinging to life in the operating room.

They hadn't had time to get Tony to any of his usual surgeons. The closest ambulance had taken them to Lower Manhattan Hospital, where Pepper had called a couple of bodyguards to guard Tony just in case. The arrow had punctured Tony's left lung, and the arrowhead had been left in when Tony had fallen and the arrow had snapped in two. Who the hell went around New York shooting arrows at billionaires anyway? Other than Hawkeye, Pepper didn't know anyone who even used the damn things as weapons these days. And Hawkeye would never hurt Tony. Pepper was sure of that. But who would? Wait, that was a stupid question. Pepper could probably make a few pages long list right now off the top of her head. She let out a sigh. Tony had left Iron Man behind, but it didn't seem to have made his life any safer.

Pepper didn't know how many hours it would take for the surgeons to extract the arrowhead. It all blurred together into a dull, worry-filled blob of time. Pepper was used to worrying about things. She had a job at the top of Stark Industries, so worrying was one of the many things in her job description. She had also been Tony's friend and later girlfriend for years now. One could not know Tony Stark for long and not get into worrisome situations. Pepper had by now got so used to it that she could sit more or less patiently and wait for the situation to resolve itself. It didn't keep her from wishing there was something more she could do for Tony right now. Calling the ambulance and doing her best to keep Tony breathing when she and a very shocked chauffeur had waited for the sirens to swoop into earshot didn't seem like enough. But really, what could she do? She wasn't a surgeon. She would just have to wait and keep Tony's business empire standing – just like she pretty much always did. And hope. She really needed that too right now.


What hope Pepper managed to kindle within herself was mostly her own, but it did have a little help. Practically all hope did. The reason holiday mascots and anthropomorphic personifications existed was that there were times when people needed a little bit extra to make it through the day. And sometimes even that wasn't enough, but that was life. The bottom line was that if one wanted to find hope, they needed to look into themselves because hope didn't have a number on the yellow pages, or even an address.

The Guardian of Hope did have an address, however, and he indeed was that little extra help people sometimes needed. His job also included chocolate making, egg hiding in Easter where appropriate, and making sure time travellers didn't meddle with history. However, he wasn't very easy to find either. Those who were lucky enough to meet him would immediately guess Australia, but they were wrong. He simply liked Australia, even though Australia didn't like him very much. The most accurate directions to his home that he would give to some carefully chosen individuals was simply "on Easter Islands", but that wasn't nearly specific enough to find him unless he wanted to be found.

Right now, though, his location was North Pole, and he wasn't especially happy about it. It was so bloody cold in there, and even though Santa's workshop normally had very good central heating, it was currently malfunctioning after suffering a severe case of elf-related chaos. So Bunnymund was left sitting grumpily near a fireplace while the rest of the Guardians seated themselves so that their meeting could start. Toothiana the Tooth Fairy sat next to Bunnymund to keep warm as well, but Sandy, Jack, and North didn't seem to be too bothered. Heck, Jack was obviously overjoyed because of the broken heating. Little Frostbite was prancing around the room, partly out of anxiety and partly out of his usual peppiness.

"...so we're not going to do anything about it?" Frostbite was saying incredulously, "But Mother Nature said there's something about to come through! You heard her, Sandy."

He turned to look at the eldest Guardian, who nodded reluctantly but also conjured up dreamsand images that advised the boy to calm down.

"Think about it, Jack," Bunnymund spoke up, "Nothin's happened yet. We can't just go world surfin' because something might come through."

"Bunny is right," said Nicholas St. North, putting on his leader voice – something that Bunnymund didn't always care for but that was welcome right now, "We defend. Protect. We don't attack just because of rumours."

Jack sighed. The temperature inched further down a couple of degrees. Bunnymund snuggled closer to the fireplace.

"Oi! Watch it, Frostbite!"

"Well, what about those Asgardians?" Jack asked and deliberately ignored Bunnymund's complaints, "You think it's smart to let Mother Nature handle them?"

Sandy spoke up – figuratively – quickly forming images above his golden crown of hair. He had watched her. She had indeed gone to see Mr. Odinson and then left. For now, at least. Bunnymund had to find that reassuring, even though he couldn't say he trusted Mother Nature very much. She was too uncaring and didn't believe in alliances. And if someone wanted to call Bunnymund biased because Mother Nature was the daughter of the bastard who had wiped out Bunnymund's entire race... they would have been correct if Bunnymund hadn't been above that sort of thing. Mostly.

"I believe Mother Nature will leave it be now," North said, "She doesn't want to get involved too much."

"I hope ya're right," Bunnymund muttered, "But we know she's unpredictable."

"I can dispatch some of my fairies to keep watch on her," said Toothiana, who had been unusually quiet until now, "So that Sandy can focus on his duties fully again."

Sandy nodded gratefully, but also mimed quickly that it had been no trouble. No one missed how sleepy he looked, though. He projected a few more words and the Guardians watched intently.

"So Mother Nature knows those mysterious Asgardians have something to do with the Avengers being attacked?" Tooth summarised, crossing her feathered arms, "I don't like this."

"Those guys can take care of themselves," Bunnymund said dismissively. He didn't appreciate those Shield-agents meddling into their business. He had really hoped they would just continue coexisting without crossing paths.

Tooth looked grimly at them all.

"One of my fairies was sidetracked last night in New York because of a commotion involving Anthony Stark. He was shot."

"What?" Jack gasped, "Just like that?"

Tooth shrugged helplessly.

"He and Miss Virginia Potts were apparently on a date. Nothing... superhero related as far as I know."

There was a contemplative silence. North stroked his long, white beard with a frown on his face. Sandy had an ellipsis over his head. Jack dropped the temperature one more degree out of sheer worry.

"Is he alright?" he asked.

"Alive," Tooth said, "But in a hospital. I don't know anything else."

"Alright," Bunnymund huffed, "That's sad an' all, but those guys get shot at all the time."

"Bunny!" Tooth admonished, "He could die!"

Bunnymund raised his paws defensively.

"I mean, we've talked 'bout this. We can't be too upset with every single tragedy. We've got to keep going so we can keep helping. All I meant was: why d'ya think that has something to do with... well, anything that'd require our help?"

Tooth pursed her lips irritably. Her wings started fluttering and she rose into the air.

"Well, I think we should at least look into it! I mean, Asgardians, Mother Nature... S.H.I.E.L.D. being kind enough to ask us for advise before doing anything rash. We should at least make sure they aren't in over their heads."

"I agree" said North cheerfully, "I think we can all agree that something strange is going on."

"I thought we agreed before that our job isn't the Avengers' job an' vice versa," Bunnymund grumbled.

"We're not starting any agent business, or... or going to a war, Bunny," Frostbite said, "We're just making sure our old pals are fine. What? You scared?"

Bunnymund glared.

"Nobody said anythin' about scared, Snowflake! And those 'pals' we're the ones who kidnapped you, remember?"

Jack waved his hand lightly.

"Meh, they said they're sorry. And we're cool now, remember? Holding grudges for stuff like that is boring, anyway."

"Then is settled," North said, "We get to bottom of this. Well, as long as it doesn't interfere with actual duties."

He glanced worriedly towards his workshop, where his yeti workers were trying their best to fix the heating and simultaneously keep the toy factory running.

"Now, if everyone is clear on things, this meeting is over. I think elves are trying to set stuffed animals on fire."


"Miss Potts?"

Pepper looked up when a doctor called for her. The woman was in her mid forties and looked every bit the stereotypical doctor with her dark rimmed glasses and the serious bun her hair had been pulled up into. The only thing that messed with the image were the five holes in her left ear that no doubt had earrings in them when she was off-duty.

"Yes?" Pepper asked, partly relieved and partly fearful to finally get news. Tony had been in surgery for... hours? Time was still all smudged up for her. She might have even fallen asleep at some point. She wasn't sure any more.

"I am doctor Blackwell," said the doctor, shaking Pepper's hand, "Mr. Stark has been stabilized for now. The arrowhead has been extracted and his lung has been repaired to the best of our abilities. There were no serious complications."

"Will he be all right?" Pepper asked, standing up from the chair she had been rooted into for the last blob of time.

Doctor Blackwell looked at her notes, probably just for show.

"I would say his chances are fairly good, considering the extent of the damage. He is unconscious right now, and we don't yet know if he sustained brain damage from the impact he suffered while falling. His lung will take time to recover fully, and he has lost a lot of blood. There is still a high risk of infection. At the moment, we can only wait and see."

"Can I see him?"

Doctor Blackwell smiled sympathetically.

"Yes, you can, Miss Potts."

Tony was pale and hooked to several annoyingly beeping machines. Pepper cautiously walked across the room when Doctor Blackwell let her in and she sat by Tony's bedside. This wasn't the first time Tony had been on the brink of death. He had lived the last few years of his life dying, until the shrapnel he had got into his chest all those years ago had finally been removed. And now someone had gone and shot more foreign objects into Tony's chest. Pepper knew Tony was strong, but she had to wonder how many serious surgeries a human body could take in such a short time.

No, she couldn't think like that. Tony would survive. He had to.

Pepper touched Tony's hand that lay on the covers. Behind the oxygen mask, Tony's face was slack, missing the energy Tony usually had. Pepper pressed her mouth into a thin line.

"I know you," she said quietly, "You're not going to let something like this kill you."

She really hoped she was right. The machines beeped, and despite hating them, Pepper found some solace in the fact that the beeping was steady and indicated Tony was at least stable. Outside, it began to snow.


Films and postcards liked to depict snow as always white, powdery, and, depending on the mood, fun or romantic. Everyone who lived in the real world knew that it definitely wasn't the only type of snow in existence, and everyone in New York was now reminded of that fact. The first snowfall of the year was the opposite of fun or romantic. It consisted of heavy, large clumps of half-frozen water molecules stuck together. They melted when they made contact with almost anything other than air and made those who were more well versed in the matter debate whether it could be called snow or just sleet. It was almost depressing, like whoever was in charge of it wasn't even trying. To be fair, he wasn't.

He was too busy sitting in the air with his nose against a hospital window, chanting something silently at the people inside. He didn't even care that he was the only thing besides air that didn't melt the sleet, which froze into flakes of ice that clung to his hair and skin. Jack Frost wasn't a welcome visitor in hospitals, because he radiated coldness that the patients or delicate electronics definitely didn't need. However, he didn't want to constantly stay away from the places where people needed some extra joy to get better. So he settled for straying to the hospital windows, drawing pretty patterns with frost and wishing the patients well. This time he had taken a detour to Lower Manhattan Hospital, where Tony Stark had been stationed in.

Usually he focused mostly on children's wards, but he had figured he could make an exception every once in a while. Stark wasn't quite a friend, but he was fun to play pranks on. It had become a kind of competition. Tony would upgrade the security measures in his tower to prevent any trouble Jack could cause, and Jack would occasionally try to circumvent Tony's systems. It was never anything serious, just some harmless fun like leaving a taunting message written in frost on Tony's computer screens. Now, though, Jack wasn't there to leave messages or to test security measures. Now it was time to take a minute to watch over a sort of friend, who was stable for the moment, but still looked incredibly fragile. It just wasn't like Tony at all.

Jack pressed his hands against the window, ignoring the frost that started to spread on the glass. He chanted the spell, which North had taught him, a few more times:

"I believe. I believe. I believe."


S.H.I.E.L.D. had doubled their efforts to find the Taskmaster after Stark had been attacked. It was clear now that someone was after the Avengers. But whether it was the Taskmaster himself or someone who had hired the man, they didn't know. Whichever the case, they would have to start with neutralizing the assassin. Fury would not let his best defence team going down like this. Until the Taskmaster was in their custody, they would have to be extra careful.

After dispatching a couple of agents to the hospital Stark was recovering in – well, hopefully recovering and not just slowly dying – Fury had put a few of their less acute projects on hold just to liberate even more resources to tracking the elusive assassin down. He spent hours working overtime – if that was possible when he considered himself to be working 24/7 – looking up their satellite pictures and making calls all over the world. In the second night after Stark had been shot, Fury finally got what he wanted.

He looked over the maps on his computer screen, smiled without any real joy, and then made one more call.

"I think we've got him."


"I think we've got him."

Natasha Romanoff had been waiting for someone to tell her that a while ago. When the radioed green light to start her mission was through, she was already on her way. The Taskmaster had very likely been spotted in a dingy hotel in Chicago. Natasha had taken the first S.H.I.E.L.D.-transport she could get and was trailing the man less than two hours after she had got her call. The man had unknowingly led Natasha to the outskirts of an industrial area, where Natasha now had a perfect vantage point.

She had pulled her shoulder-length, red hair up in a ponytail and was wearing her form-fitting black agent suit under a simple coat that would help her blend into the more populated areas she might need to get through. She had considered dressing entirely in civilian clothes, but their mysterious assassin had proven to be an opponent who shouldn't be given any advantages. Natasha would start in full stealth mode and try to get close to the man that way. If it didn't work all the way to the end, she would present herself vulnerable enough for the Taskmaster to think he had a good chance to get her. The man would need to think that she was looking for him, but he would also need to believe that he would be able to surprise her. It shouldn't be too hard an illusion to pull off. Natasha had pretty much perfected that tactic. People usually underestimated a woman with a pretty face, something Natasha would have been more annoyed about if it wasn't so easy to take advantage of.

She triple-checked that her trusted Glock pistols were in their holsters, easily in reach and well hidden under her coat before pulling out a pair of binoculars again and switching them to heat vision. It was getting dark; the buildings became grey boxes and streets started to turn into black strips of nothing that broke the city into a jigsaw puzzle of street lights and advertisements. The boxes and puzzles slid away from Natasha's sight and were replaced with colours. Reddish spots that were warm and walked around were mostly concentrated on the streets. A few more lonely ones had strayed from the roads, and one was situated on the roof of a building not too far away from Natasha, right across the street in fact. And that was the red spot Natasha was the most interested in. She changed the filters in her binoculars until she could get an actually decent look at the man on the roof even in the dark. A skull mask was barely visible in the shadows. He was talking on a phone, probably getting his newest orders. Judging by his body language, he didn't know Natasha was there. Perfect.

Natasha shifted her weight, shedding her coat and putting the binoculars away. She leaned forward and froze. A flash of rainbow caught the corner of her eye. A neon sign reflected on something for a split-second before it was gone. Natasha narrowed her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed between her teeth, as quietly as she could while still being heard to the newcomer.

"I just got here. I wasn't going to sneak up on you!" a voice from the dark said far too loudly for Natasha's liking, "Not that I could have, anyway. You are very perceptive."

"'For a human', I suppose," Natasha replied.

A colourful hybrid of a bird and a woman flitted from behind a billboard. She was very short, but hovered at Natasha's eye level thanks to her rapidly flapping insect wings. Natasha hadn't seen her in a while, not that she had minded. The Tooth Fairy was one of the Guardians, and she had powers associated with memories. Natasha still wasn't quite comfortable around her because of that. The Tooth Fairy had the tendency to remind her of things she couldn't really call a part of her life. Things that a part of her very much wanted to call her life.

"No, I meant in general," the fairy said cheerfully, "Anyway, to answer to your question: I'm here to help. Well, more like keep an eye on things, actually. We don't doubt your ability to handle this on your own. It's just that we – the Guardians, that is – well, some things have come up that really got our attention. Don't worry! It's just for a moment, and you won't even know we're involved. Really, we'll be-"

Natasha moved her head but stayed frozen in her crouch otherwise. The Tooth Fairy was like a hyperactive hummingbird. A very loud one. Natasha glanced at the spot where the Taskmaster had been. She couldn't see the man without her binoculars, but she would have to shut up her unexpected companion before checking.

"Toothiana," she whispered forcefully, "This is a stealth mission."

What she meant was that a loud, flying fairy really wasn't good for such a mission. Or that the teal, pink, blue, and yellow feathers didn't make for good camouflage anywhere. Toothiana seemed to understand enough to shut up for a second, at least.

"Oh, don't worry," she then chirped, "I'm sure there won't be anyone around who can see or hear me. No believers here! Well, besides you obviously. Unless whoever you're against uses children, which is very, very unlikely. And too sad to think about!"

Natasha narrowed her eyes further. Toothiana's mouth snapped shut and she made an apologetic gesture with her small, feathered hands. Natasha supposed it wasn't as necessary as she had made it out to be, if Toothiana really was practically non-existent to people who didn't believe in her, but it never hurt to err to the side of caution. She pulled out her binoculars again and checked to see if the Taskmaster had moved. He hadn't. Toothiana peered into the darkness as well.

"So that's the assassin that attacked Mr. Barton and Mr. Stark?" Toothiana asked, this time at least keeping her voice down.

Natasha nodded. Toothiana shielded her eyes and looked critically at the man.

"What are you going to do with him?"

"Get close, incapacitate him, and get info," Natasha replied, "It might involve a fight. And you? Were you doing to screw with his mind with your memory powers or something?"

Toothiana looked very offended.

"I don't 'screw' with anyone's mind! And no, we don't even know who he is, so there's no way I'll be able to even find his memories without getting closer to him first."

Well, that was a surprise. Not that Natasha knew exactly how the Tooth Fairy did her memory magic – except that it had something to do with the teeth she and her tiny helpers collected – but she had figured she would just know everyone's memories just like that. Somehow realizing that she didn't made Natasha feel a little more comfortable. At least she could now think there were at least some of her own memories the fairy couldn't get access to, as well. Maybe.

"So what do your people know about this guy?" she had to ask anyway.

"Not much," Toothiana shrugged, "Not even his name. He's not a child so he isn't our priority. Still, it's a bit weird that we couldn't get so much as a name. If we had it, we could find him on North's lists. Sandy knew a little bit at least. Said his brain is wired differently than most. He couldn't really explain it. Something to do with memory. That's partly why I'm here."

"And the other reasons as to why you?"

"We thought I would get along with you. At least better than the others."

Well, Natasha supposed that was reasonable. They had shared a sort of friendly moment back when they had met, after getting over the initial misunderstandings. That didn't really make them friends or confidants in Natasha's eyes, but the Guardians probably thought differently. They seemed to be stuck in a more idealistic way of thinking.

"If you're really here to just watch," Natasha whispered, "then stay out of the way and we'll be fine."

"Oh, I promise," Toothiana said, as cheerful as ever, "I will come to your aid if you need it, though."

"Fair enough," Natasha said.

Not that she would need any help if things went according to plan, or even in many cases when things didn't go according to plan. She checked once more to make sure that the Taskmaster was still at his spot. After determining that he was, she jumped down from her vantage point, landing on a fire escape staircase and sneaking down as quietly as she could. She tried her best to tune out the humming of Toothiana's wings as the fairy followed her. To Toothiana's credit, she did keep a respectful distance, probably understanding that Natasha wanted some space. Natasha pressed her back against the wall at a corner of a building, and took a moment to let silence fall again after it had been broken by her nearly silent footsteps. She knew she wasn't being as careful and professional as she could have been, but that was the point. The Taskmaster seemed to like surprising them when they believed to be in their own element. It was time to turn that strategy against the man.

She had made her way almost all the way across the street before the assassin took the bait. She had been prepared for the arrows, and she knew several ways to steer clear of them. She and Clint knew each other's fighting styles well enough to counter most of the things they could throw at each other in a training session or a sparring match. And in one very unfortunate instance, in a real fight when Clint had been mind-controlled by Loki. An arrow clacked against the wall near Natasha, and Natasha quickly crouched down and rolled, catching the arrow from the ground in the process. It had been broken on impact, but it would give some useful information if she took it to one of their labs. She broke into a run, staying in the shadows and avoiding places where firing a bow would be a viable option. She heard Toothiana's wings and the man's distant, speeding footsteps. A louder, but still muffled thud came from an alley to her left and Natasha concluded that the Taskmaster had left the rooftops and descended on her level. She pulled a Glock out of its holster and waited until she heard the man rounding a corner to the same street she was on. Then she spun around as quickly as she could and aimed a warning shot at the man's feet. She closed their distance when the man tried to fit another arrow on his bow – which, Natasha noted when getting closer, was very similar in style to Clint's bow – and fired another shot. The Taskmaster spun back behind the corner, the bullet flying past him. The man was obviously quick to react.

"He's preparing a pistol," came Toothiana's voice from higher up. The fairy was flying near the rooftops, surveying the battlefield with a soldier's vigilance.

Natasha didn't bother replying, but instead dove for cover when the man opened fire. She crawled behind abandoned, metallic shipping crates and pulled a small flashbang grenade from her belt. She let the assassin get closer before she threw it at his feet and closed her eyes. A shout of surprise and pain was all Natasha needed to know that it had worked. She hopped back to her feet and swung herself onto the shipping crate. The Taskmaster was blindly stumbling around near the corner of it, and Natasha crossed the top of the crate and dropped right onto the man's shoulders. The force of the hit, combined with the blindness, drove the Taskmaster into the nearest brick wall. Natasha jumped off, landing behind the assassin in a quiet crouch.

"Nice!" Toothiana cheered.

"That was for Hawkeye and Tony," Natasha huffed, raising her voice to make sure the Taskmaster heard it even through his hood and mask, "What do you think you can accomplish by attacking us?"

The Taskmaster turned, the perpetually angry skull mask not betraying any real emotion.

"Well played," he said, his voice muffled by the mask, "I have to remember that move, ya know?"

Natasha saw the gun flash in the man's hand, and she dodged behind a crate when two shots were fired. One of the bullets grazed her thigh, scratching through her suit and drawing blood. Not quite what she had intended to happen, but she could go with it. She let her knee buckle and allowed a small grunt of pain escape. Toothiana gasped, so Natasha figured she had overreacted to the injury well enough. Still, she couldn't go down too easily. That would be suspicious. She rolled out of her cover, sliding under the man's raised weapon-hand and threw a punch to the man's abdomen. There was armour in the way, but she could punch hard enough to bruise even through it. The Taskmaster countered, surprisingly quick for a man of his body builder-like frame. The kick came right out of nowhere, and Natasha didn't even have to fake the air leaving her lungs when she was struck in the solar plexus. She hit the ground and managed to control the fall just enough to not seriously hurt anything. She gasped and raised her hand defensively, arranging a distressed look on her face.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked breathlessly, "Who wants us dead enough to send you?"

The Taskmaster stopped, his gun loosely held at his side. His bow was on his back, but Natasha knew he could pull it out quickly if needed. She would have to be fast and merciless to disarm the man once she got him to talk. Toothiana had lowered herself so that she was right behind the man, looking concerned and clearly wished to assist. Not that she could actually do anything, since she was invisible and intangible to the man. Natasha wondered how exactly she had thought to help.

"You're in the way," the Taskmaster said in an almost bored tone, "Look, girl. I just get paid to do this."

Natasha shrank back, aiming to look defiant and frightened at the same time.

"You shot Tony," she accused, "And attacked Hawkeye. We didn't even know about you before that."

"But I guess you knew about my employer."

Perfect. Now they were getting somewhere. It was amazing how easy it was to get people talking when they thought they were winning.

"No, we don't."

"And I'm not about to tell ya."

Damn. He wasn't as stupid as he looked. He needed another push. Toothiana was hovering even closer to the man, an odd look on her face. It was a mix of horror, fascination, and uncertainty. Natasha wasn't sure if it was aimed at the man or if the fairy had caught onto her scheme and didn't quite approve. She took a deep breath to make sure her lungs had recovered from the kick and then shifted her weight. The Taskmaster's gun was just close enough for her next move.

"So you are just going to kill us, after everything we've done to keep people safe?" she hissed.

The Taskmaster tilted his hooded head.

"Yeah, sorry," he didn't sound sorry at all, "But I told ya; you're in the way."

And he wasn't going to say anything more. Natasha could see it. She needed to be fast or she would be dead. Before the Taskmaster could properly aim his gun, she kicked upwards with her not so injured leg. Her boot hit the man's fingers and didn't unfortunately break anything. It did, however, knock the gun out of the man's hand. Natasha rolled backwards and kicked the gun farther away so that she stood between it and the assassin. The Taskmaster took a couple of steps back, brushing against Toothiana's shoulder...

...and he spun around, aiming a lightning-fast right hook at the Tooth Fairy.

Natasha froze. So did Toothiana and the Taskmaster.

Toothiana had reacted instantly, catching the man's fist with her tiny hand. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open in shock. The Taskmaster struggled against her grip.

"You can... see me?" she stammered, "But how in the... you... what?"

If Natasha too hadn't been so surprised by the fact that the Taskmaster apparently believed in the Tooth Fairy, she would have noted that the fairy's display of super strength looked even more absurd when put against a man built like a renaissance statue.

"You're the Tooth Fairy, aren't'cha?" the Taskmaster said, impressively calm given the situation, "She told me about you... all of you. Not sure if everyone believed her. But I did."

"Who told you?" Natasha asked.

The Taskmaster's answer was swinging his free hand at Toothiana. The fairy caught it as well. Her eyes widened even further and she shoved the man away so hard that he hit the wall.

"What happened to you?" she gasped.

Natasha had no idea what had shocked Toothiana so much. What she did know was that the Taskmaster was stunned, and that it was the perfect opportunity to end the fight. She quickly pressed a button that started up electric currents that ran through her gloves, sprinted up to the Taskmaster and lined up her punch. The current in the gloves was just enough to send the man into unconsciousness with negligible damage or pain. The Taskmaster slumped to the ground and Natasha rolled him to his side before calling for a transport to pick them up.

Toothiana was still staring at the assassin's prone form, and Natasha had a feeling there was something else to be upset about than what she could see about the situation.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Toothiana shook her head vigorously as if wanting to get rid of an unpleasant thought.

"His memories..."

"What about them?"

Toothiana didn't answer. She seemed to be deep in thought. The shock she had been in was wearing off, but it seemed to have been replaced with something else she didn't seem to be inclined to share. Natasha sighed. She hoped the transport wouldn't take long to arrive. Hours in an industrial area with an unconscious assassin and an upset fairy for company definitely wasn't her favourite way of spending her evenings.


Author's Note: If I don't get a new chapter out before November starts, don't expect an update until December, because November's writing energy is reserved for NaNoWriMo! So have a longer chapter to make up for it! Or to prolong your suffering because you need to read more, depending on what kind of an effect my writing has on you.

...I feel like I'm starting to repeat the basic plot of the first crossover but just with different characters in the roles but... hey, there's tons of other stuff going on that I'll try to pull together towards the end as well. I really am not trying to rehash Clashing with Legends too much. But I also really try to not suck and that isn't working out too well so... But hey, I already have one character in a hospital so at least I've accomplished something...ish. Also, Mother Nature/Emily Jane is fun and difficult to write.

Reviews would be very loved because they help me get better! Thank you all who have given me support already and also helped me get ideas for the fic!