"What's the temperature today, JARVIS?"
"Last reading 30 minutes ago was 5 degrees below 0 Fahrenheit, sir – 10 degrees below 0 when factoring for the wind chill."
"Well, at least it's warmed up since yesterday," Tony Stark groaned as he looked down at the frozen wasteland that had once been New York City. A fresh supply of snowflakes whipped past the floor-to-ceiling window of his tower on the way down to the streets, adding to the several feet of snow, ice, salt, and charcoal that had built up over the past few weeks. Even the skyscrapers seemed to shiver in the relentless, record-breaking cold that held most of the country in its icy clutches. The native Californian groaned again and rubbed his brow as he thought of all the frigid weather behind him and all the apparently equally frigid weather still ahead – how did people work in this? "JARVIS, make a note for me to kill that new contractor! Ugh... there should be laws against doing business where it's this cold!"
Tony continued shaking his head and sighing in disgust as he turned his back on the depressing view and walked over to pour himself a cup of coffee from the pot by the sofa, trying not to think of how Pepper must be gloating back in Malibu. Had she known about this when she volunteered to hold down the fort at Stark Industries while he went to take care of some things in New York? Reconstruction of the tower had been delayed too long by reconstruction of the house in Malibu, and he had come back with the resolve not to leave until it was finished. Maybe this was his punishment for being so stubborn... He cheered up as he realized that, no matter how cold it was, he would rather be here finishing Stark Tower – Mark II, sealing new deals, and discussing new arrangements than back in sunny California with all the boring legal work, boring paperwork, and boring legal paperwork of the office... maybe... just barely...
He was still debating the question when the doors across the room slid open. "Good morning," Bruce Banner yawned as he strolled inside.
"Morning," Tony said back. "Pour you a cup?"
The doctor, who, as a rule, thought it wise to avoid caffeine, shook his head and held up the steaming cup in his hand. "I'm good, thanks," he said as Tony caught the hot scent of chamomile tea.
"That makes one of us," said Tony as he walked back to the window with his friend. "I'm telling you, a few more days like this, and I'm gonna pack up and move this tower to Georgia."
"It's freezing there, too."
There was a pause before Tony gasped in horror, "It's just never gonna end, is it? The snow, the cold... it's never gonna stop... We're just gonna be trapped in this Ice Age forever..."
"I didn't know you hated snow so much," Bruce said with a grin of amusement at his friend's attitude.
"Doesn't everybody by now?"
"Not me... I like the snow..." Bruce shook himself out of his reverie before it could begin and turned aside from the sight. "... But I hate the cold. If it weren't for you, I'd be..."
"Don't mention it, pal. We're teammates; we gotta stick together. You needed a home, and I just happened to have the perfect one."
"Thanks – I don't know what I would've done without it." Bruce shuddered at the thought of drifting through the underworld in his old lifestyle under these conditions. Nothing less extreme could have forced him to accept Stark's offer of a place to stay this winter. To his pleasant surprise, it hadn't been as awkward as he'd expected. Rooming with Tony Stark wasn't so bad, if you didn't mind the constant wisecracks and the constant, random interrogations...
"Guess that's one good thing that came out of this polar vortex," Tony said with a smile. His expression changed as he said, "I never minded before, but I never knew what snow was until this winter. I have been to almost every corner of the globe, seen every possible climate this planet can cook up, but nothing I've seen has ever prepared me for something like this. I never realized just how cold Cold could get until now. And now that I have seen it, I hate it! If I never see another snowflake again, it'll be too soon!"
"Well, there's no need to let it make you so angry. Don't get so worked up about it. You need to stay calm... stay cool..." Tony turned and glared at the man grinning broadly back at him. "Come on, I couldn't resist."
"Let's get one thing straight: if anyone's gonna be making lame cold puns around here, it's gonna be me," Tony said threateningly.
Bruce shook his head mockingly. "Ooh, temper, temper..."
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Immensely – please, continue."
Tony smiled and said brightly, "Sorry, I think I'm done for now," took a drink from his cup, and turned back to face the window.
Bruce did likewise and said, "Too bad – when you can't get angry, nothing's more entertaining than watching someone else get angry."
"I thought you were 'always angry.' "
"Not on the outside."
"What does that mean, anyway?"
"It's complicated."
"I'm sure it is, so start explaining."
"Why, you want tips?"
"I might need some if you keep stonewalling every time I ask. Why so secretive?" Tony asked suspiciously.
"Self-preservation."
"I have ways of finding out secrets, as you may recall."
"Not mine."
"Wanna bet?"
"Bet I could find out your secrets faster."
"Me?" Tony laughed. "I'm an open book. I have no secrets. Pepper's made sure of that."
"Heard from her lately?" Bruce asked in a different tone.
"Talked for a while last night. This is the longest we've been apart since we got together."
"She coming up any time soon? You two designed this place together, didn't you?" Bruce asked next, looking around the room.
"We couldn't both leave the office," Tony explained. "Besides, now I can enjoying seeing that gorgeous, awestruck look on her face when she sees the new place for the first time after it's finished."
The words were undoubtedly true, but the bravado in which they were spoken didn't fool Bruce. "You miss her a lot, huh? It must be rough. See, took me less than a minute to learn a secret of yours."
"As much as you miss Betty, I'm sure," Tony replied with a smirk before taking another sip of his coffee.
Bruce cursed himself for providing that opening. "Don't start that again, Stark..."
"How's she doing by the way?" Tony asked, ignoring the request.
One frustrated sigh and eyeroll later, Bruce managed to answer, "Last I heard, she and Samson were doing great."
"Oh, no, they're still together?" Tony asked with sincere disappointment and sympathy.
"Sure, why not?" Bruce said with sincere happiness and relief. "He's a great guy."
"A great guy who stole another guy's girl," Tony scoffed.
"She had no idea I was ever coming back. She's too good to waste her life pining away for one guy forever – where's the virtue in that? I'm glad she moved on. Something we should all emulate..."
Bruce started with fright as he realized what he'd just hinted, but, fortunately, Stark was too hot on his current trail to pick up the scent of another: "He ratted you out."
"He was trying to protect her."
"He knows you're back now, and he still..."
"He did nothing – I left her. I haven't talked to her since Harlem."
"Why?"
Bruce would have refused to answer or walked away like he had the million other times they'd had this conversation, but that had gotten tedious. "I couldn't ask her to deal with... all this. She deserves better than that."
"Did you ask her opinion on that?" Tony asked matter-of-factly.
"Wouldn't change my opinion. What am I supposed to do – ask a beautiful, healthy, successful, young woman to give up her career, home, life, and future to go on the run through obscure, backwater villages until some psycho finds me and takes her hostage, or she dies of yellow fever or dysentery or sleeping sickness? What would be the point? We could never be together... not really. Never settle down, never have a real home, never have children..." He left it at that.
"You went back to her once," was all Tony could say.
"You want me to say it?" There was an impatient edge in his voice that instantly put Tony on his guard. "Yeah, I loved her, I admit it, but it never would have worked out. I accepted that years ago. She tried to help me, I sent her back the necklace I owed her, and that was the end of it. I moved on, just like she did. It was for the best."
"For her sake, I hope she sees it that way."
"I did write to her. After New York. She understands. She was happy with Samson; I wasn't surprised when she said they were back together."
"Well, I'm glad she had him to comfort her," Tony said with bitter sarcasm.
"Me, too," Bruce said sincerely. "He's a good person. He's got more common sense than the entire military combined."
"Not exactly a difficult feat."
"You know what he saw the first time he saw the Hulk? He didn't see an evil, mindless monster – he saw a victim under a vicious, unprovoked attack, trying to protect her. He actually paid attention to what he was seeing and concluded that just because he couldn't understand it didn't make it evil. He wasn't automatically afraid of him – he trusted him. Enough to defend him to General Ross. You know how rare it is for people to respond so rationally to the Hulk? I'll never get to tell him how grateful I am for that or how much I respect him, but..."
"How do you know this? She tell you?"
"Yeah, in her letter. Ross told her. Not with the same judgment, I'm sure. What, you don't believe her?"
Tony shrugged. "Why would she lie about that?" he conceded.
"Exactly." Bruce turned from his friend to the landscape before them with a sigh. "If it hadn't been for the accident, I never would've left her, but what-could-have-been doesn't matter. If it couldn't be me, I'm glad she found him – I can't think of anyone better."
"You know, you... actually sound like you mean that," Tony observed.
"I do."
"I believe you," Tony said slowly. "I was wrong. I'm sorry."
"Good – took you long enough."
"So, what's her name, then?"
"What are you talking about?" Bruce knew that he'd taken a split second too long to respond.
"The one who's been on your mind who isn't Betty."
Bruce smiled and shook his head – the guy never gave up... "There has been no one else," he said completely truthfully.
Tony merely chuckled. Bruce knew he didn't believe him; Stark had been on a mission ever since he'd moved in. Before that, Bruce had been able to rest easy in the knowledge that his friend's jokes about how he needed a girlfriend were just that: innocent jokes. He thought it was safest to ignore such remarks, so he had never responded – not once, as if he didn't hear them – but, apparently, that had only aroused Stark's suspicion. He'd started directly asking if there was anyone special out there waiting for him, but Bruce calmly denied it every time. Stark eventually seemed to give up, but it turned out he was only luring his target into a false sense of security.
Bruce still couldn't forgive himself for being so foolhardy that evening. It was a week after he'd moved into Stark Tower. They were standing here, just like they were now, discussing thermonuclear physics, while watching a light snowfall, the kind that wasn't violent and windy but so gentle that it mesmerized you as you watched it sprinkle the world with a coat of glittering, silver dust. The sight was so entrancing with the setting sun and emerging stars and evoked one particular memory so strongly that Bruce had slipped and inadvertently let his guard down. After a few minutes of silence, occasionally broken only by the most meaningless exchanges and "Yes" or "No" answers, with no segue, no preamble, no warning at all, Stark had suddenly asked, "Was she pretty?", and, without thinking, Bruce had blurted out, "The most beautiful woman in the world," before he realized what he was saying.
Ever since then, Stark had been relentless in his quest to find out the story behind his friend's supposed mystery woman. Today was no exception. "Just tell me how you met her," he begged.
"Met who?"
"That's okay – I already know," Tony said with a very satisfied smile. In the most serious voice, he continued: "You wake up in the middle of nowhere – maybe a forest or a meadow or a moor – half-dressed, confused, no idea where you are. Maybe it's cold or too hot or about to start raining – anyway, you need to find shelter fast. Probably follow an old fence or a dirt path or a stream. You walk for a few hours, ready to pass out from fatigue and hunger, when you find it: a cozy little barn, in great condition, so obviously still inhabited and used, but, fortunately, no people or animals in sight right now. So you go in, climb up to the hayloft, maybe grab a horse blanket or two, curl up in a corner out of sight, and go to sleep, grateful that you found a warm, dry place to sleep for the night.
"After what feels like a few minutes, you wake up, stiff but fully rested, listen for any sounds of life, hear nothing, assume you've gone undetected, and decide to sneak away before anyone can catch you. You climb down the ladder, about to make a run for it, when you see it: a basket with a loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese, some apples or peaches or pears, a bottle of milk, and, folded next to it, a complete set of clothes. At first, you can't believe it's real. Then, you think it might be a trap – maybe a net will fall on you as soon as you touch it. But this is no time to ask questions. So you eat. You dress. You pack up the leftovers. Your first instinct is to get as far away as you can while you have the chance, but you can't without finding who did it and thanking them. You go outside and look around until you spot the house a short distance away. You know it's madness, but you walk up, keeping your eye out for any sign of human life. You can't believe it, but you reach the front door without incident.
"You're about to knock when she comes around the corner from the henhouse with a basket full of eggs – the sweet, kind, little farm girl who helped you in your time of need. All you plan to do is thank her, but you owe her more than that. You offer to help by doing some odd jobs around the place for her. You talk for a few hours, stop to eat lunch, you talk some more, night falls... before you know it, you're good friends. After a few days, you trust her enough to tell her the truth. She's not afraid; she feels your pain. She wants to help. She tells you you'll be safe there.
"You don't want to put her in danger, but you can't bear to go. You stay for a few more days, then a few weeks, settle into a routine. Before long, it feels like this is the life you've always lived, and you can't imagine any other. Then, tragically, it happens. Maybe an ex-boyfriend who can't take 'No' for answer finds her. Maybe she was once a spy who had a change of heart and tried to start over, hiding where she was sure they would never find her, but they do. Maybe it's you they come looking for. Either way, it happens, and when you wake up, you can't bear to go back. But every day, you wonder what happened to her, if she's all right, if she still thinks about you, and, more than anything, what she would say if you went back."
After a moment or two of bewildered silence, Bruce finally blinked and asked, "Where do you come up with this stuff?"
"Ray Bradbury did, actually. Doesn't matter – these things always happen the same way."
"There was no farm girl."
"She could have been a nurse – found you unconscious, and her concerned face was the first thing you saw when you came to..."
"There was no nurse."
"A convenience store clerk who he saved from being mugged on her way home from work, so, instead of fleeing him in fear, she followed him to thank him or help him, eventually found you, and offered you a hiding place in her basement or attic to repay you."
"There was no store clerk."
"Then what? I can keep guessing – you'll get sick of it long before I do."
"You'll never guess..." By the time Bruce caught himself, it was too late.
"Guess what?" Tony asked eagerly. "What she does? Where she lives? Who is she?"
"There's nothing to guess."
Stark looked disturbingly content as he nodded. "Oh, I get it – you don't know, either. You didn't get the chance to learn her name or anything else about her. You were the mysterious fugitive that fate blew across her path for an hour, a day, two at the most, and left as quickly and mysteriously as you came."
"You're wrong." Stark's expression told Bruce he'd responded too quickly that time. "Honest." After another pause, he added, "You must be getting desperate – not much of an exciting relationship for you to obsess over in that scenario, is there?"
"Are you kidding? That's the best set-up of all!"
"Why?" Bruce asked in genuine confusion.
Tony just smiled for a moment before saying, very gravely, "Because it's irresistibly tantalizing. Sooner or later, you have to go back."
"You think you know everything. What makes you such an expert?"
"Just what I see with my own eyes." Tony raised his eyebrow as he looked his friend right in the eye. "Let's go over the clues. You ask me at least once a day how things are going between me and Pepper – that tells me relationships are on your mind. There are significant gaps in your past that you refuse to discuss – either too painful or potentially dangerous. You have truly moved on from Betty – no one completely moves on until they find someone new. From time to time, you get that far away, happy, yet melancholy look in your eyes as you remember her. But it's uncertain, showing there are questions that remain unanswered. It's particularly strong when you look over the horizon – that means she's far away. Before it passes, you sigh and shake your head – that's you telling yourself to forget about her, but you never do. It never lasts long, but it always comes back. All this evidence and more indicates that he's not in love, but he's well on his way."
"When did you become Sherlock Holmes?" Bruce asked him with a laugh, seemingly unimpressed.
Tony shrugged nonchalantly. "Have it your way, Banner." He turned around and strolled toward a small table with a fruit bowl. "But trust me when I say..." He selected an apple, shined it on his shirt, and prepared to bite into it as he finished, "... nothing escapes the eagle eye of Tony Stark."
He was just raising the apple to his mouth when an arrow flew past his face, knocking the fruit out of his hand and impaling it in the far wall. Tony rolled his eyes in annoyance as he turned back to the doors. "Hey, watch it with that thing! What, do I look like Seneca Crane to you?" The token dark, brooding loner of the Avengers said nothing as he slung his bow over his shoulder and marched into the room. "How did you get in here anyway?"
JARVIS' voice rang out from the atmosphere: "You gave all the Avengers full access, sir, as a precaution should anyone need a place to stay in an emergency while you were not present."
"Well, did you check him out first? How do you know he's not an evil clone? Or brainwashed?" Tony asked his virtual assistant.
"How do I know you're not an evil clone or brainwashed?" Agent Barton asked as he retrieved his arrow.
"That would explain a lot of things," Bruce mused aloud.
The archer flung back his arm as if intending to toss the apple back to Stark but seemed to think better of it and took a bite out of it himself. "That's going on your bill," Tony informed his new guest.
"Didn't know you were here, Dr. Banner," said Barton.
"I have a habit of turning up in unexpected places," the doctor replied.
"I know what that's like."
"And what brings the famous Hawkeye to Chateau de Stark today?" asked Tony.
"An invitation to the Helicarrier," Hawkeye answered. "Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. decided it would be more efficient to skip the phone calls you never answer or return and just send someone to collect you in person from the start."
"Smart move," Tony observed. "I guess I should be flattered they chose such an elite agent to deliver my message."
"Just the agent they figured had the best chance of getting inside. Evidently, they were right."
"And what global crisis is on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agenda today?"
Hawkeye gestured with his arm to the snow behind them. "That."
"A pane of glass?" Tony asked sarcastically.
"The weather?" a puzzled Bruce wondered.
"Persistent, extreme, record-breaking cold," Hawkeye elaborated. "Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. thinks there's something unnatural about it. They haven't told me anything specific – you want to hear more, you'll have to ask Fury."
"Unnatural?" Bruce echoed instantly.
"Loki?" Tony asked with trepidation.
"Unlikely – according to Selvig, he died during the Convergence incident in London."
"They find a body?" Bruce asked.
"No. Still unlikely – not his M.O."
"Yeah, Loki likes to be in the spotlight, not working behind the scenes," Tony agreed.
Bruce cleared his throat and asked, "So they think all this cold and snow is caused by, what? More aliens? A terrorist with a weather machine? Some new natural phenomenon? Magic?"
"No idea," Hawkeye told him.
"Obviously, it's something else they're not prepared to deal with," said Tony, before his voice took on a dramatic, ominous sound. "Meaning, this looks like a job for the Avengers..."
"You coming or not?" the deadpan Hawkeye asked.
"Why not?" Tony decided with a shrug. "Beats sitting here watching the world freeze."
"I'm coming, too," Bruce said abruptly.
Hawkeye raised a confused eyebrow at the man who, last he remembered, couldn't stay far enough away from S.H.I.E.L.D., but Stark simply put on a fake British accent and said, "Quickly, Dr. Watson," as he snapped his fingers, causing all the lights to go out, one by one. He then said in his normal voice, "JARVIS, hold my calls, lock up after us. If we're not back in three hours, send out a search party."
"As you wish, sir," the air said obligingly.
"Quinjet's on your helipad. Grab something warm," was Hawkeye's last remark as he led the way out of the room.
"Agent Barton, Tony Stark, and Dr. Banner are being escorted to the lab now, Director."
"Copy that."
A young crew member looked up from his screen and turned his chair around. "Sir, is it really... safe to have Dr. Banner aboard?" he asked timidly.
"Banner's the last thing you should be worrying about right now, ensign," Fury replied.
The young man nodded and turned back to his monitor as Maria Hill looked up at her boss and asked, "You really think this will require the Avengers' involvement again, sir?"
"Unusual problems usually require unusual measures and even more unusual solutions," the Director answered her. "Take over, Hill." Maria nodded as Fury turned and marched out the door, leaving the bridge.
Five minutes later, the three men waiting in a small laboratory on Level 4 were joined by the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. "Good work, Agent Barton," Fury said to Hawkeye before turning to their guests. "Welcome aboard, gentlemen. Glad you could both join us today. Good to see you again, Dr. Banner."
"Hope you don't mind me tagging along, sir," Bruce said sheepishly as Fury shook his hand.
Tony stepped up to them both with the confident assertion, "Of course he doesn't – two heads are better than one, right?"
Fury stiffly held out his hand. "Mr. Stark."
"Please, call me Iron Man," Tony said, shaking his hand vigorously. "So, when do we start?"
"Now," answered Fury.
"Now?" Tony repeated incredulously. "What about the rest of the gang? Where's the big guy?"
"Last we heard, back on Asgard," Fury informed him.
"Mister Rogers?"
"On assignment.
"Kim Possible?"
"Same assignment."
"Not much of a party – no offense, guys."
"Good, because this isn't a party." Fury strolled across the room to a blank screen and pushed a few buttons on a nearby panel. "This is a very serious matter." The screen lit up with a map of the world. "S.H.I.E.L.D. believes the fate of the planet might be at risk."
Stark crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "Again?"
Ignoring the comment, Fury continued: "Our scientists have been monitoring weather patterns for the past two months." Said patterns appeared highlighted on the map, moving across different sections in waves. "As you are no doubt aware, much of the world, particularly North America, has been hit by almost unprecedented cold and snowfall this winter."
"Really? I hadn't noticed," Stark said with his typical sarcasm. Dr. Banner, on the other hand, stepped closer to the screen and looked intently at the display.
"Believed to be unnatural in origin?" asked Hawkeye.
Fury stepped away from the control panel and pointed to a northern section of the map. "At first, it was blamed on a particularly strong polar vortex, feeding extremely cold gusts of air into the jetstream and sending them across the globe."
"Why now?" an annoyed Tony groaned.
"That's exactly what we were wondering," was Fury's answer. "We took a closer look to find out what made this one so strong, but our findings only raised more questions."
"What findings?" Bruce asked. Tony couldn't help noticing he sounded worried.
Fury went on: "Closer examination revealed the 'polar vortex' didn't originate at the North Pole, as was initially believed." He gestured to an area on the map between the North Pole, Greenland, Norway, and Russia. "All our data shows it's coming from here." He placed his finger over a patch of light swirling around in a circle like a hurricane.
"I take it that's not normal?" Tony guessed.
"No," Fury confirmed. "The cold front seems to be radiating from a central point, like heat from a fire. Within the scope of our knowledge, there's no natural process that could cause this phenomenon."
"What's in that area?" Hawkeye asked, stepping up next to Bruce.
"The location only deepens the mystery. As far as most of the world's concerned, it's deserted." Fury tapped the spot twice, causing the screen to zoom in on what looked like deserted ocean. "However..." Fury tapped the upper-right corner of the screen, causing a new panel to appear. He pressed some of the new buttons and swiped his hand over the area, causing several new land masses to appear.
"It's not?" Tony guessed next.
"Not even close." Fury continued to move his hand over different portions of the map as he explained. "First of all, the climate is unusual – despite the northern location, its summers can get as warm and sunny as Florida's. Second, it consists mostly of countries that have actively refused to embrace modern technology and industrial developments – the people still live as if in the medieval or Renaissance periods. Thus, they've restricted most of their trade and interaction to within a secluded network, cutting themselves off from the rest of the world. The only modernized nation any of them have been known to communicate with is..."
"... Maldonia," Bruce whispered, to his companions' surprise.
Fury paused before continuing. "Yes – Maldonia, here to the southwest. We have very little data on the rest – the Southern Isles, Weselton, Arendelle, Corona..."
Tony wrinkled his forehead and began snapping his fingers, like he was trying to remember something. "Wait a minute, Corona – where have I heard that name before? Corona, Corona... weren't they a major ally of ours during the Cold War?"
"That was Coronia, back in central Europe," Fury corrected him. "And, yes, they were, although our alliance with them ended soon after the death of King Charles the First. Maldonia's pretty much the gateway between the cloistered kingdoms and the rest of the world; they became a major partner of ours after the First World War, when the prince married a U.S. citizen. Other than that, we've never had any contact with Corona or any of the rest of them. And strict international laws and agreements have been signed, ensuring their privacy."
"Which is why you haven't flown in to investigate," Tony concluded.
Fury nodded and once again pointed to the center of the swirling vortex of cold air. "Something supernatural is going on here, to the north, but, officially, we don't have the authority to enter that region."
"What's up there?" Hawkeye asked.
"As far as we know, deserted, year-round frozen wilderness."
"As far as you know," Tony repeated.
"That's north of Arendelle," Bruce observed, his shoulders relaxing as if some tension had just been released. "A-and... Weselton and the rest."
"Pretty far away, actually, especially for the locals and their primitive means of travel," the Director added, stepping away from the map. "But it's still in the protected zone."
"Not much we can do then," Tony remarked with a grin and a shrug.
Fury amended that to, "Not much S.H.I.E.L.D. can do."
Tony was about to respond when Banner asked, "And civilians?"
Fury turned to him and said, "I have no authority to prevent private individuals from crossing their borders."
Hawkeye looked at the map and asked, "What are those borders like? Do they shoot trespassers on site?"
"They welcome outsiders who come peacefully," Fury explained. "Armies don't typically give that impression."
Tony began pacing around the room. "So if, say, an American businessman were to take a private vacation to that area, with a friend or two, and happened to look around, it wouldn't be cause for an international incident."
Fury grinned knowingly at the man. "Not at all."
"Finding loopholes around red tape... I like that," Tony said with approval.
Bruce stepped towards the two of them. "What would we be looking for?"
"Anything suspicious or out of the ordinary," the Director answered. "Anything that could cause this brutal cold spell." The doctor looked apprehensively back at the map. Fury exchanged an interested look with Stark before saying, "I'm pleasantly surprised you're so eager to help us, Dr. Banner."
Bruce turned around to face the others. "I'm eager to get to the bottom of this, Director." Anticipating a protest after what happened during their last partnership, he added, "You can trust me. I promise you there won't be any problems."
His face fell when Fury said, "I expect there will be. That's why I need men I know can handle unexpected problems." Bruce relaxed as his meaning sank in. "There are rumors that these kingdoms are full of strange creatures with bizarre powers."
"Magic?" Tony wondered.
"Possibly," Fury said doubtingly.
"Fun. When do we leave?"
"Leave for what, Stark?"
Hawkeye raised his head. "Director, I think I'd like to take some personal leave for a while."
"Granted. Before you begin, please take the Quinjet and escort Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner back to New York."
"Yes, sir."
The four men left the lab, three of them trailing behind Director Fury.
"Didn't expect you to join us," Tony said to Hawkeye.
"I'm a soldier – I go where the action is. It's been too quiet here. I needed a break from this place for a while."
"Aw, don't worry," Tony said sympathetically. "I'm sure Natasha misses you, too."
Hawkeye didn't seem to have heard him. "I'm surprised you agreed to go, Stark."
"Tony Stark never passes up a chance for adventure. Especially when it comes with a chance of stopping this cold.
Hawkeye looked past Stark to their silent companion. "What about you, Doctor? Why'd you volunteer?"
Banner answered softly, at first, "Curious," but then raised his head and said more firmly, "To see what's going on."
A skeptical Tony asked, "And what else are you worried about?"
"What I always worry about."
"Save the worry for when we find whatever's out there," Agent Barton advised him.
"I hope it's not another alien," Stark said with a wince.
"I hope it's not magic," was Hawkeye's wish. "We won't be able to take any S.H.I.E.L.D. gear with us except my jet."
"Stark Industries has all the gear we'll need," Tony assured him.
The two continued discussing plans while Bruce looked over his shoulder down the hall at the lab they had just left. He kept seeing the map they'd just been shown in his mind. Of all places... He'd been teleported back there as soon as Fury brought up that region. His eyes had been drawn right to the spot on the screen like a magnet. It was almost impossible to believe – he had been sure he would never see it again, and now he was going back...
He shook his head as he recalled the exact location of their target. It's not Arendelle, it's not Arendelle... exactly what he'd repeated in his head once he saw that the source of the mysterious cold spell lay farther north. Until then, the question of whether or not he should tell the others had been burning painfully in his mind the entire time – it was a matter of global safety, after all. What a relief it had been when he realized there was no need! It wasn't Arendelle. It couldn't be her. It couldn't have anything to do with her. They'd go in, find the problem, fix it, and get out without ever going anywhere near her territory.
He would be closer than he had been in two years, but that was all.
"This was one of our bestsellers," Tony explained as his two teammates tried on the protective suits he'd given them. "Took the lab three years to develop the right combination to make this material. Lightweight, durable, waterproof, and warmer than wearing a parka in the Sahara. All the rage for the United States Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines."
"Impressive, Stark," Hawkeye admitted as he pulled on the jacket, covering his muscular, perfectly-sculpted arms.
"I'm sure your fangirls would disagree," Tony remarked with a smirk, "but it's a necessary evil."
"I hope you packed extras," Bruce said uneasily, noting that the pants didn't stretch much.
"Don't think we'll need them, but yes," Tony assured him. He gripped each of his wristbands, checking that they were firmly locked in place, and tapped the red, rectangular case on the floor with his foot. "Suit's already packed. Back-up suit is about to be packed... Hey, I thought the rule was no S.H.I.E.L.D. gear."
"This is my gear," Hawkeye informed him as he checked his quivers full of different arrows and the string on his bow. "Had to leave my sidearm, though."
"These'll probably fit in much better where we're going anyway, if we run into any locals" Bruce theorized.
"Speaking of fitting in, what languages do you think they speak there?" Tony asked.
Bruce kept his mouth firmly closed while Hawkeye answered, "If not their own, probably the languages of the countries closest to them – Norwegian, Swedish..."
"Either of you speak any of 'em?"
"Little Danish, lot of Norwegian," Bruce ventured to answer. "You?"
"Are you kidding? I speak more languages than Scrooge McDuck," Tony said flatly.
"I don't," said the laconic Hawkeye."
"Then I have a special gift for you, Agent Barton." Stark handed him a small, almost undetectable earpiece. "It's a receiver, microphone, and amplifier, with a special translator program installed. I invented it for meetings with foreign customers and traders. You set it for two languages – say, Norwegian and English – and anything anyone near you says in Norwegian, it'll automatically translate to English in your ear, and anything it hears you whisper in English, it'll rebroadcast at an audible volume in Norwegian so others can hear you."
"What if I want to talk in English?"
"Just talk at a normal volume – it'll ignore it. Probably won't be many opportunities for charging the battery where we're heading, but I packed plenty of spare. And performance should be unaffected by the cold temperatures."
"Not bad, Stark," was Hawkeye's only comment as he fitted the gadget in his ear.
"Too bad there's no way I can get this tower finished in the next five minutes, but I guess it's gonna have to wait a little longer after all."
"Pepper mind waiting?" Bruce asked him.
Tony sighed before he answered. "Longest good-bye we've ever had. I think she wanted to come, but she didn't ask. Knew we couldn't wait for her."
"Well, the sooner we get out of here, the sooner you can get back to her," Hawkeye pointed out, hoisting his bow and one quiver of arrows over his shoulder. "Everyone ready?"
"Ready enough – let's go," Tony answered as he picked up the case and headed for the door. "Bye, JARVIS."
"Good-bye, sir. See you at the next battle," said the AI before signing off. The lights went out as the three men made their way up to the top of Stark Tower.
Hawkeye climbed into the pilot's seat and powered up the Quinjet while the other two stowed the rest of the gear. "The game's afoot, Dr. Watson," Tony said in his mock British accent as they took their seats.
"May the odds be ever in our favor." The two passengers stared blankly at each other and then at Agent Barton when they heard him say that. "Just wanted to say it before Stark did."
"Well, that takes all the fun out of it," Tony whined.
"That was the idea," Hawkeye said as the jets fired up. "Prepare for takeoff."
"Prepared," said Tony.
"Let the non-existent mission not begin," said Bruce.
Hawkeye finished with, "We're off," as the jet lifted off from Stark Tower. The snow had stopped, and the men had a clear view of the city as they flew northeast into the slate gray winter sky.
Bruce let Stark annoy Agent Barton by asking what every button did while he stared silently out the window. He wasn't half as worried about this mission as he was the last time – he was working with friends, not strangers, and he hadn't been drafted against his will. Whatever they found out there, it had to be easier to deal with than Loki and the Chitauri. Just a few more days, and they'd be there... He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead in frustration as he realized he was actually looking forward to this trip! This was ridiculous! He was still thinking about how close he was going, about seeing her again...
Forget it, Banner. Don't be such an idiot! He instinctively checked his pulse – one, two, three, four – but, no, he was fine. He had to be practical – he couldn't afford to get too angry at himself. It's been two years. Two years. Two years was a long time for some things; remembering people you'd known only for a day was one of them, no matter how much of a difference they'd made in your life... Two years. They weren't going there, but even if they had been, it wouldn't matter. There was nothing waiting for him there...
