6. The Chase Is On

Natasha knew that Fury had reached a breakthrough. He was walking briskly towards one of his offices, clearly expecting both Natasha and Toothiana to follow him. For a while the only sound was the barely audible, rapid flap of Toothiana's wings. Natasha glanced at the fairy, who was flying beside her. Toothiana looked agitated, and a little insulted. Natasha supposed she couldn't blame her. It was never nice to be reminded of their own failures. Just how many amnesiac children had this self-proclaimed Guardian of Memories overlooked during her career? It wasn't a very nice thought, but then again, Natasha had to admit that she was usually a bit too pragmatic to be nice. The girl in the tooth box of memories that Toothiana had somewhere in her lair had probably been nicer, but Natasha didn't want to waste time thinking about her own forgotten childhood. Not much, anyway. It was just that the mere presence of the Tooth Fairy seemed to push those kinds of thoughts to the surface. It was like people instinctively knew that she was keeping their memories safe. Of course that couldn't be true, Natasha reasoned. It was just idle speculation on her part.

"I know that man," Fury said suddenly.

Natasha raised a brow.

"Who is he?"

Fury stopped at the door to his office and let them in. It wasn't his most impressive or the most secure office – and the fact that Toothiana had been let in made it even less secure than before – but it would do for the time being. Fury made sure the door was closed and then turned back to Natasha, a serious look on his face.

"He's one of our agents."

Natasha couldn't help raising an eyebrow again.

"Really? How did we not notice it before?"

Fury sat down behind a computer screen and made a couple of quick calls. Then he opened up some files on his computer and started clicking.

"Tony Masters," he finally declared, "He wasn't with us for too long before he was killed in action. Or so we thought, at least. We knew precious little about him, just enough to think he was reliable. A mistake, as we can now tell."

He typed something quickly, gloved hands flying over the keyboard with ease.

"Probably everything about his background is faked. It's all very well done, but if he doesn't remember... I'm not sure his name really even is Tony Masters. His condition matches, though, as do his skills and looks."

He turned the screen for Natasha to see. The Taskmaster's unmasked face stared back at her.

"That also explains how someone has managed to check out our weapons and files without raising any red flags until now," Natasha mused, "It's much easier for a hacker to reactivate old codes than fake new ones. And he said he's working for someone..."

"We have to find out who that someone is. In the meantime the only leverage we have are his memories."

He looked meaningfully at Toothiana, whose agitated expression turned into outrage.

"Mr. Fury, I don't think you understand exactly how I work," she said icily.

Fury wasn't perturbed.

"And I don't think you understand the importance of our work."

Toothiana huffed, crossing her arms indignantly.

"I know you are concerned with the safety of others, but I came here to determine what was wrong with that assassin. I will not withhold his memories for interrogation purposes."

"Can't you just read the memories? Get the info right out of his head?" Natasha asked, sensing an impending fight that wouldn't do any of them any favours. Toothiana looked at Natasha, her muscles visibly relaxing.

"No, not exactly. I can just sense memories, keep them safe, and give them back when they are needed."

Oh, is that all? crossed Natasha's mind, but she knew this wasn't the time for sarcasm. Fury had fallen silent and was contemplating something. Whether that was a diplomatic solution or forcibly removing the Tooth Fairy from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s premises was anyone's guess.

"Fine, then," he said grudgingly, "If you have better ideas, I'm listening. If not, I'll have to ask you to leave. I have work to do."

"Well, I..." Toothiana's outrage dwindled at an alarming rate, giving way to confusion, "What? Just like that?"

"Yes. You didn't want to get involved with us, so don't. Thank you for your help so far."

Fury said it all with the monotone of someone reading courtesy phrases out loud from a book. Toothiana looked at Natasha, who just nodded. The Guardians definitely weren't among the favourite people – or beings – S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted to work with, so she would have to leave while things were this peaceful.

Toothiana sighed.

"I'll let you know if I can help, Natasha."

It was specifically directed at her, and Fury no doubt noticed it. He didn't seem to acknowledge it in any way, though. Toothiana left so soundlessly it was like she had never been there. And officially, she hadn't.


The Executioner took deliberate steps to the side, slowly circling Jack like a bird of prey. Jack knew the man was trying to bait him into circling with him, away from the stairs. He wasn't going to let it work, but he had to admit that he couldn't really stand still either. The Executioner had an axe, and it would probably cleave him in half in one swing. Jack didn't know if spirits could survive stuff like that. He'd never tried it, but he guessed it at least wouldn't be pleasant at all.

The Executioner took a few more steps and then attacked, tired of the circling game Jack didn't want to play in the first place. He was fast, but this time Jack knew it and could time his dodge accordingly. He jumped, soaring over the man's head and shooting ice into the man's chest. The Executioner grunted, staggering back, his armour sporting an impressive formation of icicles. Jack landed and turned, raised his arms and let his natural coldness spread towards the stairway. He raised a wall of ice in the doorway before the Executioner had time to think he'd have a clear way to the top. The Executioner spun around, his frown twisting his face. He didn't waste time for one-liners. Not that he needed to. His frown was like a million death threats at once. He charged.

Jack jumped over the swing of the axe, ducked under the next and tried to find a good gap where to fire his counterattack. It wasn't the easiest task, with the man moving so quickly and expertly. Jack couldn't exactly stop moving either to take aim properly. He had to keep moving and he definitely couldn't back himself into a corner. He needed room for dodging, because otherwise he would have to block and his staff would probably snap like a toothpick after one strike from that axe. Jack definitely didn't like the thought. The memory of Pitch breaking the staff still was a little too fresh in his mind. He flipped backwards over a computer and cringed when the Executioner hit the obviously expensive machine so hard it broke into three pieces in a crunch and a splash of liquid that leaked out from behind the screen. A bleeding computer. Jack hoped Tony wouldn't hold it against him. His insurance wouldn't cover it, especially since there was no such thing as insurance for dead teenagers who broke the laws of physics with their very existence. The Executioner leaped over the corpse of the computer and pointed his axe a bit too dramatically for it to be a proper fighting stance. A moment later Jack realised it wasn't a fighting stance at all. An ominous blast of heat was all the warning Jack got before a ball of fire was hurled at him. He dropped to the floor and felt the heat soaring over his head. That was not good. He could handle a little bit of hot air, and fire wouldn't exactly kill him, but it was one of the most uncomfortable things he knew. He rolled, dodging another blast and scrambled backwards to get another desk between him and the Executioner.

"You cannot win, little Frosti," the Executioner said, "We both thrive in the cold, but I can burn you alive."

Jack pressed his hand against the floor. Small icicles sprouted from it and he watched the Executioner's boots when the massive man started walking around the desk towards his hiding place.

"Actually," Jack said, "You have to catch me first!"

It was a childish thing to say, but Jack didn't really care. He hardly ever cared if he was being childish. Caring about things like that was for the especially boring adults. The Executioner took another step towards the desk and raised his axe. Jack clenched his hand into a fist. There was a surprised grunt when the Executioner suddenly found a cluster of giant icicles bursting from the floor and the desk Jack was hiding behind. Jack left his cover, firing a blast of energy rather than ice at the staggered Executioner. None of the icicles had actually got through the man's armour or skin, but that hadn't been the point. The point had been distraction, and it had worked for the moment. Jack fired another blast, and another when the man was still dazed. The Executioner growled irritably and planted his feet to the floor like a wrestling champion. Jack's next blast barely made him budge. The axe in the man's hand glowed just a bit, and Jack hurriedly jumped to avoid the flames sent to his way. He landed into the stray wind that never really left him and let it lift him up to hover near the ceiling. He needed some time to think. The Executioner seemed barely bothered by Jack's ice, and that was a problem. He had to rely on energy and sharp objects instead, and those were not what he usually called fun things to do with his powers. Not to mention they were much more tiring than just freezing things. He hoped Tony would hurry with whatever he was doing.

A lamp near Jack exploded when he dodged the next attack, and he faintly felt shards of hard plastic hitting him in the cheek. It didn't hurt as much as it distracted him, and against an experienced combatant distractions were deadly. Jack realised his mistake about the same time as a burning ball of energy struck him in the chest and he hit the ceiling with crushing force. The wind dropped him, or he just dropped from the wind, and the floor drove the last of air from his lungs. His head hit the floor and his vision exploded into stars. He scrambled to hands and knees, but a hard, booted foot hit him in the stomach with merciless force. He gasped and rolled onto his back. The bald man hovering over him with an axe prepared to strike was blurry and occasionally there were two of him, but Jack wasn't quite so out of it that he couldn't recognise the danger. He struck out blindly, firing a burst of blue energy that sent the man flying. Jack jumped back to his feet, trying very hard to ignore the burning in his chest and the swimming in his head. The Executioner had crashed through two computers and was halfway out of a broken window. It wasn't a pretty sight. Jack could see shards of bulletproof glass in the man's arms.

"Ouch," Jack said out loud, "Would you now just calm down and tell me why you want to kill Tony? Was that other assassin one of your guys too?"

The Executioner coughed and looked at Jack very murderously. The man's axe was on the floor, out of reach, and Jack moved to kick it even further away. Another mistake, as he realised a split-second later. A sickening feeling of hate and rage surged through him the moment his bare foot touched the weapon. It wasn't his rage, but it might as well have been. It was so strong it hit him like a battering ram and his legs refused to support him anymore. He fell to his knees.

The Executioner detached himself from the glass. Shards of it fell to the floor with a series of tingles that were quickly drowned out by the heavy thunk of the man's boots. Jack rose gingerly to his feet and backed away, his staff held protectively in front of him.

"Don't move," he said and hoped he could have sounded a little less winded, "Or I'll blast you through that window properly this time."

The Executioner glared at him in a way that seemed to say "Cometh at me, bro", or something like that. He clenched his hands into fists and seemed more than ready to leap at the obviously evil axe. Jack prepared his next blast.

Then the Stark Tower came back to life. The heating went back up and continued rising to uncomfortable levels. The elevators crunched free of the ice, but went down and apparently got stuck in the ground floor. The ice wall at the stairs melted alarmingly fast. The Executioner looked decidedly unimpressed.

"If you think you can stop me with a little bit of heat, you-"

Jack fired a beam of energy at him. Someone else fired too. Two blasts struck the Executioner in the chest and he crashed into the window again. This time he actually went through. Jack hurried after him, way too late to catch the man, and saw the Executioner fall on his knees so hard that the pavement cracked into a crater beneath him. Jack raised his hands defensively and glanced over his shoulder. He saw Tony walking briskly towards him with a some kind of metal glove in his hand.

"I swear I didn't really mean to do that!" Jack said.

"Well, I did," Tony peered downwards through the broken window, "Come on, we need to get down before he gets up."

"Right. Can you turn the heat down? It's getting really uncomfortable in here."

Tony looked up.

"JARVIS?"

"Right away, sir. I should also inform you that the two men in the elevator just breached the doors the old-fashioned way and are heading outside."

Tony huffed.

"Remind me to get better doors. And windows. After we're done with this."

Jack grabbed Tony by the arm. The man was startled, probably by the coldness of the touch, but Jack didn't have time to care.

"I can get us down faster than an elevator."

"What do you-?"

Jack yanked Tony and himself through the broken window, spiralling down alarmingly fast before the wind eased their descend. He heard a stifled yelp that was so unlike the regular confident Tony Stark that it was almost funny. Tony had a death grip on both of Jack's arms and a death glare in his eyes. Jack landed next to the crater the Executioner had left into the concrete, and Tony let go of him as soon as there was solid ground under their feet.

"Are you crazy?" Tony snapped, "Just because you can break the laws of physics doesn't mean I can. Not without any gadgets anyway."

"I broke them for you too, you big baby," Jack grinned and then became serious again, "I think those guys just got into that car."

He pointed. A dark grey car was speeding away as quickly as it dared without raising too much suspicion. Jack could see the bald head of the Executioner in the back window. Tony cursed.

"They're not getting away. I'll follow with my car. You try not to lose them while I get it."

"A car?" Jack repeated, "Don't you have any superheroic gadgets with you anymore?"

"Get to flying, Peter Pan!"

Jack smirked one more time before he was on his way. The dark grey car was speeding up, but so was he.


Steve Rogers felt uncharacteristically lonely while he sat in his apartment, struggling with his computer. It wasn't that he was still hopeless with modern technology – he had actually got the hang of the basics quite quickly once he really had time to figure it out. The problem was that it all seemed to change so fast. And really, what he really wanted to do right now had nothing to do with staring at a screen. He wanted to be out in the field, as he had been for the past few days. The assassin – Taskmaster, Steve reminded himself – had put Fury so much on edge that he had assigned both Natasha and Steve on the case, and had insisted they worked separately. That was probably why Steve felt so lonely. He had got used to working with Natasha, even though they had only shared a few missions together. Not to mention Natasha had already caught the Taskmaster and was with Fury in one of their bases now while Steve was assigned to look for the Taskmaster's employer.

They really had absolutely no leads on the man, so there wasn't much Steve could do at the moment. He had tried calling Tony, but the call hadn't got through. So he was left sitting alone in front of the files Fury had just sent him about the Taskmaster's identity – or what little they knew about it – and all the thin leads they might have had about him or his employer. This definitely wasn't Steve's job, and everyone knew it. By the time he would have read through the files, someone else who actually specialised in information would have much more answers than him. At least it would mean an end to this tedious waiting. Steve rose from his chair and stretched his arms. He needed a break.

There was a knock on the door, and then a doorbell rang. Steve was filling a cup of coffee, but left it to cool down and strode to his door. Who could it be? Had S.H.I.E.L.D. sent someone to pick him up? Unlikely. Fury usually informed him about things like that first. Steve opened the door slightly and was surprised to see the God of Thunder standing on his doorstep.

"Thor?" he said incredulously, "Hello?"

Thor raised his hand in greeting.

"I need to speak with you."

Steve hesitated only a moment before letting his comrade-in-arms in. He had known that Thor was staying more permanently on Earth, but he hadn't had much dealings with the man after that mess with Loki and the Chitauri. He had been too busy with S.H.I.E.L.D. It was definitely odd but strangely comforting to see the Thunder God in plain civilian clothes and ringing his doorbell like a normal person. Somehow he still managed to look very fearsome with his intense eyes and long blond hair that really reminded Steve of the ancient Vikings.

"I tried getting into contact with Mr. Fury, but he is somewhere out of my reach," said Thor once they were inside.

Steve put his coffee mug in front of Thor and poured himself another. It barely filled halfway, but it would do for him at the moment.

"Yeah, he's in one of our bases, I think. Classified location," he took a moment to study Thor and realised the man seemed a bit uneasy. That was not normal for him, "What's wrong?"

"There have been attacks against you, haven't there?" Thor said, looking at Steve for confirmation and Steve could only nod, "Yes, I wish I had been told sooner, but that matters not now."

"I think Fury likes to keep the Avengers out of the loop unless they're really needed," Steve said apologetically, "Unless they're also S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. In which case he keeps us out of the loop unless we're working on a case."

"This assassin... is he still out there?"

"No, he's been caught. Natasha got him."

Thor frowned at the coffee mug, but apparently not because of the coffee itself, considering he took a very hearty swig from the mug next.

"He is caught for now, but we must not underestimate him. Especially not now when I have heard news that two of... my people are here as well."

Steve realised he was staring only after Thor started to look almost worriedly back at him.

"Your people?" Steve repeated, "Are you serious? Is this going to be... no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't assume the worst..."

"I have tried to find them, but they are hiding too well," Thor said, "I know I am getting closer, but they keep moving. I hope I can get some insight as to where to look next from S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Well, they do have connections everywhere... that is a good idea," Steve glanced at his computer. His hands were almost twitching. Finally he'd have something useful to do, "Do you want me to try to patch you to Fury?"

"Yes, that would probably be for the best."

Steve called Fury, and was met with the man's slightly disgruntled face on his computer screen.

"Rogers? What is it?"

"Thor's here," Steve said in the tone of voice people usually reserved for friendly greetings, "You may want to talk to him. He has some news we really should know about."

"Put him on the line," Fury said, but then turned to the side and spoke a few curt words to another computer. Steve frowned. He was getting a bad feeling, like he should be somewhere else, helping someone.

"What's going on there?" he asked.

"Nothing yet," Fury turned back to him, "Just some kind of commotion in the centre of New York. I'll keep you posted if needed. Now let me talk to Thor."

Steve let Thor past to talk to Fury, and looked out of the window. It seemed trouble just popped up wherever they went. Especially in the last few days. Just what was going on?


"They're getting away!" Tony said rather needlessly, "I can't catch them fast enough at this rate. You'll have to slow them down!"

Jack looked at Tony incredulously. He had kept the grey car in sights for as long as needed until he had seen one of Tony's fast, expensive and apparently sustainable cars speeding up after him. Then he had slowed down enough for Tony to slide down his window and talk to him. The man was gripping the steering wheel of his car with unshakable determination.

"Are you crazy?" Jack shouted back, "I'm not built with super strength that could stop a car!"

Tony glanced at Jack.

"You should be an expert in shitty driving weather. Just do something!"

Jack crossed his arms. Tony clearly had no idea nor appreciation on the finer points of his job. Or the bigger points either. He probably shouldn't be surprised. People rarely had insight into the profession of managing winter with magical powers.

"I can't just make the weather bad for one car! All the others will-"

"I don't care what you do, okay?" Tony interrupted him, "Stop them now!"

"Fine, fine!" Jack raised his hands, aware that the calming gesture looked a bit out of place when he was flying sideways fast enough to keep up with a car going way over the speed limit, "Just try to keep up and stay out of the ice."

"What ice?"

"Potential ice. Try to keep up!"

With that, he let the wind sweep him away and towards the dark grey car. Catching it was easy; Jack could make the wind carry him fast enough to make it snow on both sides of the world in one day. He pressed his staff to his chest and made himself as aerodynamic as possible. The wind ruffled his hair and reassured him that he would catch them. He smiled. This was his element. Those three in the car wouldn't stand a chance.

The car barely jolted when he landed on its roof. Jack pondered his options. He could freeze the engine, but that would be dangerous on a crowded street like this. He would have to wait until they turned to an emptier road, which might never happen. Or, his smile turned into a grin, he could make them turn. It was a totally insane idea, but it was also an incredibly fun idea. And fun was Jack's centre. He jumped back into the wind and spread his arms. Snowflakes tumbled from his hands. He hovered above the dark grey car and waited for his chance. The street the car had turned to was still busy – it was New York, after all – but it was now close to Central Park and was also getting closer to a rare break in traffic. Jack hoped it would stay that way once the car reached the next turn. It did, and Jack let his crazy idea loose.

Snow burst on both sides of the road at a wave of Jack's staff. Ice spread under the car's tyres, and Jack focused on it as soon as it started to form. This was precision work if anything was. The sleet on the roads would be extra slippery if he just kept some of the water unfrozen on it. His mind fixed on the water molecules that suddenly threw the car off-balance and then out of control. Jack smirked even wider and landed on the icy road in front of the car. He saw the Executioner shout something at the sight of him, but the other two people in the car were blissfully unaware of Jack's existence. They did seem to be very aware of the fact that their car was about to turn sideways because they had been stupid enough to hit the brakes, though. Jack spun his staff around and lifted it over his head. A tidal wave of snow and ice rose in front of the car, turning it off course and into the Central Park.

Well, it was off the road, at least. Now for the slowing it down -part. Jack leaped back in front of the car, which would probably flip over if it wasn't allowed to stop properly. And Central Park might have been free of cars at the moment, but it definitely was full of living things that didn't want to get crushed by a few tons of flying metal. Jack set the crook of his staff into the frosty grass and started to sprint. Ice trailed behind him, and the car that still hadn't got its wheels properly under it slid on the trail of ice like the biggest curling stone ever.

The people who had braved the slushy weather to go on a stroll in the massive park in the middle of Manhattan had probably not counted for a car sliding almost a mile from the road into the park, somehow missing every pedestrian and tree in the way and slowly sliding to a stop in a not-so-crowded part of the park. Jack hoped he hadn't caused any heart attacks. The car hit a snow bank that hadn't been there a moment ago, stopping completely but quite softly with a rather undignified flump. The three men in the car flopped out of it, two of them disoriented and swearing they would move to somewhere where winter was just a myth and where it was never below a shorts and T-shirt temperature. The Executioner was far less perturbed. He was speaking to his fist, telling someone to change their plans and screw subtlety. Well, in a more archaic way, but that was what Jack gathered from it. Jack sprinted the last few feet to his targets and pointed his staff.

"Oh no, you guys aren't going anywhere!"

The poor, already quite harrowed agents yelped when they realised their shoes had just frozen to the ground with no apparent explanation as to why. The Executioner cast a very sharp look at Jack.

"Little Frosti, you do not want to get in our way again."

And then, with little theatrics, the three faded away from view. Jack fired a bolt of ice at the spot where the Executioner had been standing a second ago and let out a mild curse. One that was still appropriate for a children's fairytale character.

Tony caught up with him a while later, jogging forcefully and breathing heavily as one might expect from a guy who had had two lung-related surgeries in a short period of time.

"Where are they?" he asked breathlessly.

"They escaped," Jack said, "I think they thought they'd be subtle and use a car to get somewhere less crowded, but then decided to forget about it after... well, this.

He motioned at the car that was half buried in the snow. The car's radio was still on and it was blasting out some pop song that was apparently about butts, a popular musical subject Jack would never understand the appeal of. Tony nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I'd say that would make someone to screw all plans and just want to get home early."

"Someone teleported them away," Jack added.

The curse Tony let out was far less innocent than what Jack had said a while ago.

"Great, so this was all a waste of time."

"Hey, you're still alive," Jack pointed out, "And we know some more about this mess. And I got to play curling with a car. Did you see that? Pretty awesome, huh?"

Tony rubbed his face with his hands.

"I'm way too sober for this. Hell, anything is way too sober for this."

"You're welcome," Jack said dryly, "You think we should call someone?"

"Yeah. My insurance people and my lawyers. Also, Fury."

"Hey, cheer up, Stark! At least now we know for sure we're in this together!"

Tony sighed.

"Yay," he said, in the most unconvincing cheer ever. His cell phone beeped and he answered with a flick of his finger. He listened and his face paled alarmingly fast.

"Shit!"

"What? What is it?"

Tony lowered his phone and slowly wiped a hand across his face.

"They didn't just want to kill me," he said and suddenly sounded very tired, "They wanted to cripple the tower."

Jack turned to look at the horizon that was mostly trees at the moment. A trail of smoke rose from the direction of Stark's tower. Tony was already running back towards his car and Jack followed automatically as if Tony had a spirit magnet in the back of his head.

"Those two guys in the elevator," Tony struggled to say while he ran, "They planted a bomb in there. I told JARVIS to focus on defending the tower from outside attacks, but... I should have known... We're damn lucky the tower was almost empty. And that you decided to dive bomb us out the window."

Jack might have smirked and said something along the lines of "I told you so" in some other situation. But right now, when Tony's face was getting ashen and the sirens in the distance finally broke through the foliage and their adrenaline-soaked hearing, it really wasn't the time. Tony slipped into the car, and Jack slid wordlessly next to him to the passenger seat. Jack leaned to the window and it frosted over immediately. The rock song Tony had picked out felt like it was just trying to drown out the utter awfulness this day had just turned out to be full of. They still didn't know if these people had any kind of rational plan or if they just attacked randomly. But whatever the case was, they were just getting more and more serious.


Amora was disappointed. His lackey, Skurge, had been sent to deal with that man, Stark, but even he had fallen prey to the defences the man had in his tower. Well, at least they had succeeded in destroying the tower. According to the Baron, it would keep Stark out of the fight long enough for them to start the next phase of the plan. Not that their attack seemed very coherent. The Baron had clearly planned his revenge for long, but now he was just lashing out without patience. Amora's perfect lips twisted into an amused smile. The man had lived longer than most Earthlings, but his life was but an instant compared to the long lives of the Asgardians. It was like watching a child who thought he was a grown man stumble from one slip-up to another.

Amora crossed her legs and sat back, watching the other people in the room with mild distaste. The man from the place called China was finally here, glowing green and trying very hard to keep his inner glow from destroying his mortal companions. Skurge was there too, back to his place by her side. The Baron was talking to Pitch Black, the Boogeyman, who seemed just as unimpressed by their progress as Amora was.

Really, Amora could amuse herself by watching these people squirm towards their pathetic goals for a while. Especially since it would lead her to her true prize. Thor Odinson had probably already caught her trail. He was looking for her just as she was looking for him. They would find each other, and then... Amora glanced at Skurge, who looked back at her with sheer adoration. Then she would have no need for Skurge, or any one of these fools for that matter. Until then she would wait. She was a patient woman, so a few setbacks wouldn't bother her. The next time she would probably have to step into the field herself, though. One could only watch these people bumble about for so long.

Suddenly the Baron straightened his posture and broke from the conversation with the Boogeyman. Amora had to admit that the Baron could have quite a presence when he wanted to. If the room hadn't been filled with others with equal or greater presence he would have actually looked rather striking.

"Well, gentlemen," the Baron said, "And lady. My plans are coming along very well given the circumstances, but our enemy is even better protected now than I thought. But now we are all here, and with Mr. Black taken to account our power is greater than I had at first anticipated. We are finally ready to move to the next phase. To strike when our enemy is distracted by our first moves."

Finally, some proper action. Amora smiled greedily.

"I agree," she said, "But I have word of the more powerful foes we are yet to face. Thor Odinson is with them, as is the man who in the end struck down Loki himself."

"Yes, I know," the Baron admitted, "We will get to them soon."

"I can take care of Thor," Amora said immediately, "I know exactly what to do with him."

She could have sworn she saw Pitch Black smirk at her words, but she decided to ignore that. The Boogeyman was all talk right now. She sensed how weak he really was.

"Not yet, I need you here, Enchantress," the Baron said and clearly believed he had the right to give her orders, "I have finally located the material I need to finish my weapon. The crowning jewel to my revenge. I will send you and your bodyguard after it."

Amora clenched her hands into fists.

"But Thor is one of us. I know how to handle him."

"Once the material is retrieved, you can assist in that. But I can't delay this any longer."

Amora took a deep breath. She had just prided herself about her patience. This was just a minor detour.

"Very well. But after that, Thor is mine."

The Baron nodded.

"Yes, I believe I can promise you that."

Amora smiled again, this time more like a predator.

"Yes, you will."

Their meeting ended soon after that, and Amora excused herself. They had a long journey ahead, and she needed to be prepared. Skurge followed her like a shadow, but this time she knew something was bothering him.

"Mistress Amora..." Skurge finally said, an almost pleading edge to his voice, "I need to speak with you."

"What about?" Amora asked, not turning around to look at the man.

"My axe... it was lost in Stark's tower."

"What?" Amora whirled around that time, looking at Skurge's ashamed face, "I have never seen you lose a weapon before!"

"Jokul Frosti was there," Skurge said gruffly, "I had not expected him. He and Stark took me by surprise."

Amora shook her head slowly, almost with pity.

"Oh, my dear. What am I going to do with you?"

"Worry not, mistress," Skurge breathed, taking a step towards her and closing his large hands around her shoulders, "I will get it back, and I will kill them."

"Yes, Skurge, darling," Amora said and hid her mocking tone so well that Skurge didn't notice it. She brushed the man's cheek with her hand, "Yes, you will. Surely one little snow sprite and a mortal man will not be too much for you."

"No, mistress. I swear, the next time I see them, they are dead."

"Good, I am glad to hear it."


Author's Note: Well, I apparently can't let Tony catch a break. Sorry, dude. I'm also sorry it took so friggin' long to get this chapter out, but the thing is... well, I didn't write anything that wasn't school-related in the entire January and after that I've only managed a couple of good writing sessions. I've had long school days and I started my year with a prolonged case of sinusitis that triggered – among other things – a string of migraines that kept me in a really sucky condition for the first half of January. And the start of February... and it struck again in March. Well, things are finally getting back to less exhausting school work and I'm actually finally starting to get better, so I have energy and inspiration to write again. If there are still some readers out there that haven't given up on me, I am very thankful for sticking with me.

This is the point where I should start to get the plot really going, but I really have no idea yet how to do it. I have a few points where I want this story to get eventually, but right now I really need time to get my thoughts in order. So I'm sorry, but I'm guessing the next chapter won't be out in a while... Well, I'll try to get it out faster than this one at least. There are just so many characters to keep track of that I really need to think how I'm going to get them all into the plot and give them a good amount of screen time.

If there's a character that you think isn't getting enough screen/page time, do tell me. I might sometimes forget someone for a while and then realise I should probably do something with them. There will be more scenes with characters that haven't been in the story much yet. Also, feel free to point out plot holes, inconsistencies and general awfulness if you spot some.

I realised a while ago that while this is very hard to write and I feel like I suck at it, it is a fanfic with a comic book plot that I'm trying to somewhat adapt to the film universe and keep the tone sort of like a Marvel film and keep the idealism and whimsy of the Guardians in it as well. And with the Guardians I'm trying to mix books and films as well, so it's no wonder it feel hard to write at some points. What have I gotten myself into...? Oh, well, it's fun, so I probably shouldn't complain.

Do tell me what you think about the story if you like. I certainly would like it if you told me!