Author's Notes: I have to say, I'm missing my old reviewers TheOnyxDragon12 and TheFemaleBen10. I hope the story didn't grow uninteresting to you. There's a lot more to come. D: I would like to thank spize666 and AsgardianGrizzly for the continued support. Without that, I'd see no point in posting. LOL. Now. Chapter time!
Disclaimer: Ultimate Spider-Man is not mine. Nor are any of its characters. That's Marvel's job. Any Original Characters and art you note, however, are all me. No. I'm not making money. Don't rub it in.
Chapter 07 - Dinner
Saturday. The pinnacle of a nice, long weekend, right? Wrong. Not when you're a superhero in the middle a mission. Forget one that's part of SHIELD. They treat you like dogs on steroids. Ava could feel deep stings in her muscles as she walked, twitching, locking. She groaned while stretching her back, though it only caused it to pop painfully. And audibly.
"Dude," Sam whined while hunched over, "are anybody else's muscles screaming bloody murder?"
"Soreness isn't supposed to set in until twenty-four hours," added Peter, a small tremble in his voice.
"What does that mean for us?" Luke asked glumly.
Ava answered him with a long sigh like the rest of the group. Well, save for Danny. He walked alongside them completely upright, as if he hadn't been put through training hell by SHIELD's Director for the past six hours. The blonde faced Ava and gave a small grin. It seemed suspicious.
"Where exactly are we going for dinner, Danny?" she questioned with slightly narrowed eyes. That grin grew a little more.
"Yeah." Sam decreased his speed from the front of the pack so that he stood between Ava and Danny at the back. "How much longer will this walk be? I'm starving."
"It's just another block," the blonde answered. He picked up speed to meet Peter at the front then took a left at the next intersection they approached.
Ava shared a look with Sam, but said nothing more on the matter. The group fell into casual conversation—mostly about food. Sam started listing all the dishes he could have made at Peter's house with Aunt May by now, and Ava fought the urge to snap at him when her stomach began to growl. Of course, by that time they had reached their destination. Apparently.
"Danny, dude," Peter said, awe-struck, "I—I can't even afford to look at the waiters in here."
Ava would second that. If she could speak. Along with the others, she looked up and up at the Gothic building ahead. Its width matched that of a small mansion. Its height rivaled the Oscorp building if you counted the two towers at the top. She couldn't fathom just how much gold lined its arcades and niches, and the stone it had been carved from looked more like polished marble. Arched above its rose window was the fancy wording 'La Château' in—guess it—gold.
Was this supposed to be a tease?
"We aren't really eating here…are we?" she questioned carefully.
Danny had already reached the grand entrance, though, smiling back at the group. "It's okay, friends. I have this covered."
"Wait, isn't there supposed to be some kind of dress code, even if we did go in there?" Ava frowned, glancing at her civilian clothes. They were a far cry from formal.
"Yes," Danny answered, "but I have that covered too."
"I don't know, Danny," started Peter. He scratched the back of his neck and opened his mouth, only to be silenced when Sam dashed passed him.
"Hey, he says it's all good, Pete!" Arms raised in excitement, the Hispanic raced through the open entrance, nodding his head at the stoic doorkeeper that stood beside Danny.
Peter didn't bother fighting any longer, and Luke gave a shrug before following Sam. Ava walked at the back, watching as her friends filed one by one through the doorway that probably cost as much as a condo. Inside was filled with just as much splendor as the outside. Its high-rise ceilings gave it the presence of another world with its soft, jewel-like lighting, hanging chandeliers, and subtle pastels across its curves. Expensive art hung all along the walls, and marble flooring looked just as pricy. The various levels of seating bustled with faint clanks of silverware, though the live piano music played over it, as well as the chatter of patrons.
Ava glanced over the room uneasily. She hated how self-conscious she felt in the presence of so many nicely-dressed people—especially when they glanced her way, grimacing.
"Reservation for Rand," Danny said politely. Ava broke eye contact with a particularly snobby woman that sent a disgusted look back to her blonde friend. He stood before an ornate podium of mahogany, where a willowy man dressed in a black suit studied a large book.
"Ah," replied the Maître D' in a nasally voice. "There you are, Sir."
"Has my guest arrived yet?"
"His what?" Ava did a double take on the slight eagerness in Danny's tone.
"Yes, Mister Rand," the Maître D' answered. He adjusted the thin-rimmed glasses higher on his parrot nose. "And the spot you had requested has been reserved. She's there now, waiting. Larry will show you to your table."
"Thank you." After a slight bow, the blonde followed a new male—short and heavy-set—while the others glanced at one another in confusion.
They soon meet the duo in an elevator fit for a thirty-person weight limit then waited patiently until reaching the fifteenth floor. The doors opened with a dainty chime and the group exited into a place lit with hanging paper lanterns that illuminated cavern-like architecture. Larry led them through a small maze of booths set into faux rocks towards the back. A turn down a narrow corridor placed them in a private section with rice paper walls on two sides and masonry on the other two sides. In alien respect, Larry gave a bow as he slid the entrance open.
And Ava froze at who she saw inside.
"You!" Sam exclaimed with a little growl.
A low, narrow table served a young woman on the tatami floor. Her head snapped up suddenly beneath a cloak—dark eyes wide with alarm and mouth overstuffed with the dinner rolls she hoarded near her. She tried to swallow prematurely, which ended in a coughing fit that spewed some partially-chewed food onto the table top. The hooded-teen swiped the mess onto the floor with her bare arm—not meeting anyone's gaze—and then chugged some water from a dainty glass by her hand. Ava blinked, silent, when Zeelan placed the empty glass down.
"I hope you haven't been waiting too long," Danny said upon entering the room.
The teen fiddled with the ends of her curly, white hair over her hunched shoulders. "No, I—I haven't. I had to work up the nerve…to go through the door."
"I'm a little confused about what's happening here," added Peter. Still, he sat at the table, in between Luke and Sam. Ava opted to sit on a zabuton pillow on the mutant's table side, though on the other end. Meanwhile, Danny chose a zabuton on the end that he placed close to his guest.
"Alright," Sam said sorely. "Someone owes us an explanation."
All eyes landed on Danny.
"To put it simply, she called me," the blonde answered, calm.
"You mean the communicator actually worked?" Ava's eyes narrowed dubiously.
"And you didn't tell us?" Luke asked.
Danny nodded. "She called twice. Once late last night and again when"—he twitched a bit—"when I was in the bathroom earlier. I wouldn't dare talk on the Tricarrier, so I quickly set something up when I could convince her to meet. I kept it from you because I knew you would act suspicious in training."
"You really think we're those kinds of people?" noted Peter, shrugging.
"Question"—Sam spoke, sardonic, while raising a hand—"Why are we meeting her as civilians?"
"Forgive me, friends; that was a decision I made." The blonde hero grimaced a little at the looks he received. "It's easier to hide as a civilian. It makes this meeting more secure for all."
"Except for us, who you just exposed to a stranger!"
"He did no such thing," the hooded-mutant interrupted reverently. Her black eyes focused on Sam's scowl, stern. "Have more faith in your friends."
"Identities are sacred," started Danny as his warm eyes panned around the table. "We know hers as Zeelan Weir. I had given her my name to show we're on equal ground. To show she can trust me. I told her she would be meeting my team, but I didn't give out your names."
"Only our aliases?" questioned Peter.
"Yes. I'll leave it to you to decide if you want to tell her more."
He sounded keen on the idea, Ava noticed. Which seemed strange. Going as far as revealing their identities was extreme. Yet Danny…She glanced at his encouraging smile and pressed her lips into a tight line.
"Really? You trusted her? Just like that?" Sam threw an arm in the air, rolling his green eyes until they narrowed at their blonde teammate. "You remember she attacked us, right?"
"I said sorry," muttered Zeelan, her North Dakota accent rising.
"I sense she wants to do the right thing," Danny added, glancing at the young woman beside him. "I know you all can, too."
The Hispanic sat back with a pout. "Yeah, well, she still hit me…"
"So," Peter said on the brink of cheer, "does this mean you'll let us help?"
"I…I…" The mutant ducked her head so the brim of her hood casted a shadow over her face. On the table, her hands retreated to her lap, though before she said any more, the rice paper door slid open.
"Sorry about the wait," a petite blonde woman said. She wore a long kimono of pink and white with a wide smile across her soft features. "How is everyone?" The group gave a round of 'okays' as she neared. "Well, that's good. My name's Tiffany. I'll be your server tonight. Can I—whoa." Tiffany paused, eyes set on the large, empty basket on the table. "Did you eat all the bread already? I think Sergio just brought that in not ten minutes ago."
Zeelan ducked her head even further.
"My friend here is very hungry," Danny replied with an easy smile. "Is it possible we can get some more?"
"Uh, yeah," Tiffany answered. The furrowing of her brows signified she was still trying to fathom just where the rolls had gone, and after handing out leather menus to everyone, her eyes found the basket again. "I'll be back shortly with more bread," she continued kindly. "And I'm coming back with two waters, a tea, two sodas, and a…milkshake?"
Luke sent her a smirk. "I can spoil myself on occasion."
Tiffany didn't reply, but she did smile. With a faint blush to boot. Bowing politely, she then exited the room, leaving everyone to face the mutant again.
"Th—thank you," the white-haired teen mumbled towards Danny.
"It's my pleasure," he replied, light.
"Alright," Sam interjected. "Now that that we've established Danny's completely off his rocker, you can give us intel about the group."
Meeting the Hispanic's pointed finger, Zeelan's expression turned stony. "I'm sorry, Nova, Spider-Man; I didn't come here on behalf of the group."
"You didn't?" Ava questioned.
"On whose behalf are you here for then?" Luke's large body stiffened, as if to prepare for a surprise attack. But the mutant sent him a small, genuine grin.
"My own," she answered in a soft voice. Then, she shook her head. "You have to understand. K—my brother—hates SHIELD. I'm…not fond of them either. K's right-hand-man, Kai, isn't sure of humans anymore. Trent's too scared to stray from K's lead. Mini will follow the group. And Thera? …She can't stand any outsiders looking at her."
"That's quite the Brady Bunch you got going there," Peter commented as he leaned atop the table.
"You have no idea. Like Daniel asked, I tried talking to my brother. He—he didn't want to listen. And if he won't listen, none of them will."
"Yet you're here," added Danny.
Zeelan faced him rather suddenly. "I didn't abandon them. I just want to help them. I know my brother's stubborn. And, honestly, your tie with SHIELD scares the hell out of me. But we can't do this on our own anymore. As you said"—her voice cracked a bit—"we can't keep running."
"What's your plan exactly?" asked Peter with furrowed brows. "If the group doesn't want anything to do with us, then how—"
"The group doesn't want anything to do with SHIELD," the mutant corrected. "Daniel promised they wouldn't be involved. Or else…I wouldn't be here."
"Did he now?" The leader gave a long glance at the blonde that offered a lopsided grin.
"Yes." Zeelan turned her head again—this time, towards Peter. She still hadn't taken her hood off and the lantern's light casted a strong contrast on the mutant's face, revealing how sickeningly sunken her cheeks were. "I want to thank you," she started in all seriousness. "For meeting me. All of you. And I hope I'm not out of line when I ask if you can train me."
"Train you?" Ava's tone rose in surprise.
"I'm still not seeing a plan here," Sam noted impatiently.
"What kind of training?" added Luke, brow arched.
The freckled mutant raised her hands in defense. "Listen. The only way I can convince the others to trust you is to get to know you personally."
"We aren't a social group."
Immediately, Peter whacked Sam upside the head for his curt comment.
And its weight brought a frown to Zeelan's shaded face when Sam's eyes landed on her. "Look. If I have experience with you, I can vouch for you. And they'll actually take me seriously. The way I see it, training would be the perfect way. I—I mean, I've never done any kind of fighting before. I'm an ice skater. But, honestly? I want to learn to defend myself…and others."
"That's a tricky request," Peter noted while making a face.
"Yeah," Sam chimed callously, "we barely have time to sleep while under Fury's schedule, let alone train someone outside of it. Ow! Really?" The Hispanic glared at the leader, who just elbowed him in the side.
"Oh, I feared as much," mumbled Zeelan with a sigh. Under her hood, she looked to pale several shades as she studied her clenched hands.
"If this is what must be done, I'm willing to try," Danny spoke calm and certain. His green eyes softened when the mutant raised the back of her fist to her mouth in a gesture nauseous people used, and he quickly retrieved a short trashcan from the room corner for her to take.
As she leaned over it, retching violently, Sam began gagged. "Aw, that's rank!"
"You ate too many rolls," said Ava kindly. "It'll take time before your body's ready for an actual meal."
"I—I guess," Zeelan muttered after a hard cough and burp. "Lutefisk still sounds nice, though…"
"What is Lutefisk?" Sam asked.
But Peter dashed the chance for an answer and sent the mutant a sympathetic look. "We may not be able to train you, but there could be anoth—"
"Sir? Sir? You can't go in there; you don't have a reservation!" Tiffany's voice rung loud despite its muffling from the walls.
A pulse of adrenaline stood Ava alongside the group. She quickly turned to the doorway, which shot open with a harsh clap of wood against faux stone. A tall man stepped forward, boots stomping with every step along the rough floor. Even with Tiffany behind him, speaking of protocol, he forced outright aggravation from his expression. Ava knew that only because she had been working for him for so long.
"F—Fury?" Peter croaked in his faltering stance.
But the Director hardly acknowledged him; his single eye remained fixed on the mutant who had pushed off her zabuton in panic. "Hello, Miss Weir. You're under arrest."
Author's Notes: Well...shiat. Fury knows just how to make an entrance. Why is Z being arrested? How will the guys help the group NOW? Well. Review and you shall find out! :'D Also, Danny's such a nice guy. He's so caring and it just melts my heart. *love*