Sauer let the water run long after it had ceased to run red. She didn't know if she would ever really be clean; there had been too much blood. A sharp vision of Biggess' impaled body crossed her mind, and she shuddered. Blood, blood everywhere...but then, what did she expect? It wasn't like she worked for the Peace Corps.
She dried and dressed quickly, ran a comb through her short hair, and grabbed an energy bar out of her locker. She frowned, looking at the small package, and grabbed the rest of the box, shoving them in her pockets before leaving for R&D #5. She would swing by the mess hall on her way there and grab some sandwiches; whoever she was working with was bound to be hungry.
/
Tony Stark was hungry. In fact, he was nearly starving, having not eaten for almost a full day. He was trying to ignore the general complaints of his stomach, though: he had the Mach 6 to repair after that tussle in the forest with Thor. He scowled deep as he tried to beat out the dents to the exoskeleton. None of his flight stabilizers seemed affected, but the same couldn't be said of his .50mm Gygrojet rockets: the barrels had been crushed. Stark thought himself fortunate the munitions hadn't gone off when Thor started squeezing. His arm could have been blown off.
"Anything I can do to help, Stark?" Captain Rogers offered, along with a cup of coffee. It was bitter swill, but it had caffeine in it. Stark gulped it and wished for bourbon.
"Not unless you can beat the dents out of this set of barrels with your shield," he replied tersely. "Point Break did a number on my armor."
"Somebody call for a gunsmith?" The voice came from the doorway, and Stark glanced up. The kid looked way too young to be working for S.H.I.E.L.D., but he was carrying food...
"A gunsmith: no. Food: yes. Just put it on the counter over there, kid," Stark motioned with his head to the counter in question. "I'll get to it soon enough."
"It's 'Sergeant', not 'kid'," the youth said, scowling. He had obviously seen some action during the ship's attack; his face was black and blue. At least he'd been able to get cleaned up before entering the working area. Stark didn't know if he would have been able to handle the smell otherwise. Something was odd about this kid...something Tony Stark couldn't quite put his finger on... "Sergeant Sauer at your service, Mr. Stark, courtesy of Director Fury," he finished. The kid glanced down at the piece of exoskeleton Stark was pounding on. "That part of the MARK 5?"
"MARK 6," Stark corrected automatically, then stopped himself. "How do you know about..."
"We have some wonderful hackers in cybernetics," Sauer said lazily, peering at a spare piece of his exoskeleton. "I believe they took the firewall around your J.A.R.V.I.S. as a personal challenge." The lad frowned and looked thoughtful. "Either that or there was some betting going on while they were drunk. Engineers and computer geeks shouldn't drink that much, in my opinion. They get into too much trouble," he opinioned.
"Now wait just a damned minute!" Stark exploded, snatching a piece of the exoskeleton out of Sauer's questioning grip. "That's blasphemy!"
"My lab, my rules," Sauer shrugged. "J.A.R.V.I.S., are you with us today?" he spoke into the air, and something inside Stark went pop.
"Look, kid," he growled, grabbing the boy's arm and hauling him around so he could look him in the face. "I don't care what kind of rank you hold on this ship or with S.H.I.E.L.D.: you stay the hell out of my system. I work on my own tech, I do my own repairs, and..." something was odd about the arm he was holding. There was plenty of muscle, but the shape...and the scent... "My God, you're a woman!"
"No shit, Sherlock. It only took you five minutes to notice. You're a genius, all right," Sauer snapped. "It might explain why you haven't managed to procreate yet, though you're a billionaire and over 4 decades old!"
Stark went white.
"Nah, it's his lack of social skills," Captain Rogers lobbed in from the shadow he had taken refuge in. "He's egotistical, opinionated, and doesn't play well with others."
"Hey!"
Sauer squinted at the shadowed portion of the lab. "Lights up 100%," she ordered, and her eyes went wide at the red, white, and blue figure sprawled across three chairs. "Captain Rogers!" she exclaimed, snapping to attention and saluting.
"As you were, Sergeant," Rogers returned the salute and stood up. "I heard the name Sour...as in sweet and, or as in SIG Sauer, the gun manufacturer?"
She nodded. "The latter, sir. There are branches of the family all over the world, and we all do pretty much the same thing," she spared a glance at Tony Stark, "just not on as big a scale as some people."
"Ok, I'm an ass," Stark acquiesced, holding up his hands. "I apologize."
Sauer turned to Captain Rogers. "Should I get that in writing, sir?"
"Not a bad idea," he murmured.
"Can we focus, please?" Stark snapped. "We've got some major drama coming, courtesy of Reindeer Games..."
"Who?"
"Prince Loki, of Asgard, currently trying to take over the world with an extra-terrestrial army," Captain Rogers supplied.
"Oh, him. Nice manners, fancy cage. That would explain the fancy cage, I suppose..." Sauer mused, moving across the room to an access panel.
"And I've got to get my suit into shape before the shit hits the fan." Stark finished.
Sauer glanced at the crumpled arm-guard. "Is that a hand print?"
"Thor and I had a tussle," Stark understated, spreading his hands.
Captain Rogers snorted.
Sauer rolled her eyes. "Testosterone poisoning. Why is it alpha males can't get along until they rub each others' faces in the dirt?" She glanced at the crumpled armor. "So, you need some smithy tools," she declared, punching a code into the access panel. "Y'got any problems with the weapons or flight systems?"
Stark was looking at her oddly. "I need a barrel exoskeleton for some .50 mm Gyrojet rockets, I should check the electrical system, and I need to correct some welds, but other than that the rest of it is fine."
"Ok," she punched in more codes and gave him a look. "Say 'please'."
Stark raised his eyebrows. What the hell, he thought. "Please."
Sauer hit the 'enter' button, and the walls retracted into the ceiling, revealing gunsandtoolsandgunsandtoolsa ndgunsandtoolsandgunsandtool sandgunsandtools...
Both men started to whine.
"No drooling, boys," Sauer said crisply. She grabbed a hammer larger than the one Stark had been using on his exoskeleton and handed it to the man. "Size matters, Stark. Try this on your exoskeleton. The handle is pink for a reason. I expect it back. Acetylene torch is here, safety goggles are here, and I have a mini-forge if necessary, but I doubt we'll have the time. Captain Rogers?"
"Yes, Sergeant?"
She grabbed several handguns and handed them over. "SIG P226's, fires 9mm rounds. I've modified the magazines so they can carry extra. Do you prefer a right or left-handed holster?"
"Both."
She nodded and opened a drawer. "Take your pick, sir."
He pulled out the ones he wanted and shut the drawer. "Ammunition?"
"Two drawers down on the left. I keep extra magazines pre-loaded." She reached for something that looked similar to the energy rifle he had confronted Fury with earlier.
"What's that?"
"That is classified, but thanks to the miracle of interchangeable parts: parts is parts." She looked up at where Stark was making headway on the dents in his armor. "How many chambers do you need for those Gyrojet rockets?" she shouted.
"I usually work with nine," he grunted, "but the suit will accept a six-pack."
She nodded. "Captain, can I get your help in field-stripping this? Some of the screws tend to stick," she explained, removing the power pack. "Stark, you need a recharge?"
He glanced up at the power pack she held. "Nah, Thor zapped me on the ground. I should be good for the next 10 years or so." He glanced up to the table where Captain Rogers and Sgt. Sauer bent over the energy cannon. "Did you say Reindeer Games had 'nice manners'?"
She shrugged. "He thought I was amusing, not a threat. No need for bluster, I guess." She held up a square metallic piece. "See if this will work for your G-jets, will you?"
It did. "Thanks," Stark murmured. He had finished pounding out the dents, and went immediately to work installing the new chambers for the mini-rockets. "I need to plug it into a diagnostic system to check for other damage."
"Allow me," Sauer offered. She turned her face to the ceiling. "J.A.R.V.I.S., to identify, scan code TM82011GS57071SS. Consider this an invitation; welcome to my parlor."
"Acknowledged," J.A.R.V.I.S. answered, "connection complete. Good afternoon, Sergeant Sauer. How is work coming on the MARK 6?"
"Your boss needs to run some diagnostics. Are you fully integrated into my system?"
"Affirmative."
"Great. Nice to know some people," she glared at Stark, "can play well with others."
Stark was giving her a look. "J.A.R.V.I.S., how long have you and Sgt. Sauer been acquainted?" he said suspiciously.
"The Sergeant left me a cookie three months ago, sir," the AI volunteered. "It was directly linked to her personnel file for future reference."
"Why am I only hearing about this now?" Stark was looking murderous again.
"It was part of a low level hacker attack, sir. You clearly directed me to inform you only of serious attacks or breaches of the security system."
Stark turned on Sgt. Sauer. "So, you hacked into my private system three months ago..."
"No, the guys in cybernetics did that. I'm a smith, not a hacker," she put her hands up in mock surrender.
"And left some sort of identity program on J.A.R.V.I.S..."
"Just so we could get acquainted! I wanted to study the firepower designs on the MARK 6, but J.A.R.V.I.S. wouldn't let me..."
Stark scowled again. "J.A.R.V.I.S., why didn't you clear that cookie with all the other thousands you encounter in a day?" He snapped, frustrated.
"It was a Thin Mint, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S replied.
"What?" Stark said, taken aback.
"The code is a variation of the bar code off a box of Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies," Sauer explained. "'TM' for Thin Mint, 'GS' for Girl Scout, 'SS' for my initials, and the numbers are the bar code," she explained. "Everybody loves Thin Mints."
"They are quite delicious, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S volunteered.
"Hey, wait a minute," Captain Rogers interjected. "Since when do Girl Scout cookies come in flavors besides vanilla and chocolate?"
Sgt. Sauer gave him a look. "Since the 1950's, and...oh, right." She turned to another wall panel and gave it a whack with her fist. It popped open and she pulled out a rectangular green box, which she tossed to the Captain. "Be my guest, sir."
He caught them easily. "Thanks," he said, tearing into them. "Say, these are good."
"How did you sneak those on board?" Stark asked, peering into the cache and pulling out a box of Samoas.
Sauer flashed a three finger salute. "Usquequaque Exsisto Paratus. I came prepared, duh." She snatched the Samoas out of his hand and replaced them with a sandwich. "No dessert until after dinner, Mr. Stark."
"Damn, you're strict. Almost as bad as Pepper," he groused, shoving half a sandwich into his mouth. "I don't suppose you have any bourbon to go with this?"
She shook her head. "Non-coms aren't allowed liquor. You'll have to break into Fury's office for that."
Captain Rogers finished a sleeve of cookies and reached for a sandwich. He had stuffed half of it into his mouth when he pointed to a large revolver hanging on Sauer's wall. "Whff ish ffa?" he muffled around the sandwich.
"I thought old men knew not to talk with their mouths full," Stark quipped.
Sauer rolled her eyes at the both of them and walked over to the gun display. "This," she said, pulling the large revolver down from the wall, "is a Smith and Wesson X-frame Model 500, .50 caliber revolver. Overall length is 15 inches, barrel length 8-3/8 inches, cylinder almost 2 inches diameter. Holds five charges, each ½ inch in diameter, and the .50 caliber cartridges are almost 2 inches long. Fully loaded, it weighs about 5 lbs, and can take down a charging bear. Kicks like a mule, too."
"Not something I would want to stick in my belt, then."
"Probably not, sir."
"So, why do you have a Hulk-busting gun on your wall?" Stark motioned to the gun that Captain Rogers now hefted.
She shrugged. "It was a Christmas present."
"You can shoot this thing?" Rogers asked incredulously.
"Yes, she can," Fury said from the doorway. "If you three are done with your tea and cookies, we need to talk in the conference room. Sauer, tidy up and you're dismissed to your quarters."
She stiffened. "Yes, sir." She reclaimed the large revolver from Captain Rogers and started securing it and other miscellaneous materials. He caught her arm after Fury ducked out.
"What happened?" he said quietly, giving her swollen nose a knowing look.
Her face went blank for just a minute. "Somebody hit me," she finally said, shrugging. "It isn't important now. There's a threat to the planet, remember?"
Stark looked over his shoulder at the empty doorframe. "Did Fury?" he started, his voice laced with venom, but she shook her head.
"No, not Fury. He's handling it; I can't discuss it now, ok? You guys have a planet to save. Just try to remember who is on whose side, alright?"
"Alright." Stark gave her face a piercing look. "Take care of yourself, kid. Sorry I thought you were a boy when you walked in."
She shrugged. "It's a common mistake. Don't worry about it."
TBC