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Complete filler chapter, just something to get there while I figure out how to continue the story.

Ava had met Charles Xavier at age 8.

She focused on the glass in her hands, continually wiping it dirtier. Stark was silent as he sat there open-mouthed, staring, Pepper had her head in her hands. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened and by all accounts, Ava shouldn't have been bothered. Yet she burned with embarrassment, her face flushed.

Charles Xavier was a telepath.

Wilson and Barton were quiet too, having heard the conversation, they sat there awkwardly, their orange-grapefruit argument seemingly over.

The billionaire gaped, his expression stuck permanently in shock, "I didn't- I didn't mean," he stumbled over his words again, like a bad replay of an old movie, "I wouldn't have if I'd known.."

He had made it easy, in addition to having everyone learn ASL, he'd always been there to understand her thoughts in case she just couldn't communicate.

"Tony," Pepper groaned and Ava was certain she'd never heard anyone sound so completely and utterly embarrassed, "Tony," her voice ground out, "I told you to read the file,"

"Well I mean," Stark gaped, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I- I didn't-"

Along with people she'd known practically her entire life, she'd never had a particular trouble at the school.

"Of course you didn't," a new voice spoke up, cutting Stark off. Ava kept her eyes on the glass, cheeks still burning, she didn't know what to do. Genius, she pursed her lips and tried to ignore the burning in her eyes, he was supposed to be a genius, he didn't even know one of the most basic details about his new employee.

She was mute, she wiped angrily at the glass, it was the main reason she had spent so long unemployed, nobody wanted a mute employee. They would never actually say that outright of course, oh no. They would cite various reasons for passing her up, it wasn't a good fit, she didn't have the qualifications, she had no passion, she wasn't proactive.. It all meant the same thing, nobody wanted a mute girl on their staff.

Pepper though, Pepper hadn't cared. Ava gave a small smile as the glass became continually dirtier from her wiping, Pepper had given her a chance where most others would have passed without a second thought, having only seen her as a liability, not worth the trouble. But Pepper was nice, Stark, on the other hand...

She was at square one, now, and would have to figure out a way to communicate with all these people on her own.

"Jesus, I'm sorry,"

Said man sighed heavily and Ava risked a glance up, he was leaning against the counter again, rubbing his face. "God," He groaned, "I'm an ass."

Ava's lips twitched.

"Look, let's just, let's just start over, yeah?" Brown eyes flicked up, capturing her own with an apologetic look and, rolling her own, the mutant gave a slight nod, it wouldn't do to be angry at her boss, besides, she almost smirked, she could get revenge in other ways.

A wide grin split Stark's face, "Great!" He perked up, suddenly regaining all the arrogant swagger he'd possessed only moments before, "Now that we're good - with no favors owed because we're such friends - can I get a drink?"

Pepper let out a long-suffering groan, burying her face even deeper into her hands.

"Because that's exactly what you need right now," The voice from before deadpanned, accompanied by the slight screech of chair on the floor and the smirk of one James Rhodes.

"Hey," Tony snapped like a petulant child, a frown on his rich face, "Drinks are the backbone of America- and me," he motioned for Ava and she had to keep herself from glaring at him. She really had been willing to forget everything, but it might seem that she just didn't like him.

A sudden need for payback burned in her chest and, setting down the rag, she turned to jerk the cheapest whiskey- which was still worth more than her- off the shelf behind her, pouring a generous amount into the dirty glass, sliding it over with the bottle, a wicked grin on her face.

Trying to flatten her lips back into a line, Ava picked the rag back up, tucking the thing into the horrid apron that the weird voice in the air told her she had to wear, she definitely didn't feel a twisted sense of satisfaction at making Stark drink from a dirty glass, really, that would just be petty.

And she definitely didn't have to suppress a snigger when he gagged at the foul taste the liquid offered him.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Sorry it's so short!