Tony walked into the conference room, scowling. He had spent the last half hour fixing the Stark Tower communications board, which had fried with Heimdallr's first call. Several components had to be replaced outright, but the numbers JARVIS had given him about the signal's size, strength, and wavelength had enabled him (with Bruce's help) to prepare the antennae array for another jolt.
"Do you think it will hold?" Bruce asked with his usual worried look.
Tony shrugged. "Won't know until this Him-dill guy-"
"Heimdallr."
"Yeah, whatever-calls again, but from the simulations JARVIS has been running it should be alright. We're lucky the power grid didn't overload; that would have been bad. The roaming charges from Asgard are a bitch." Tony turned to another communications panel. "JARVIS, can you set up a conference call for me?"
"Give me five minutes, sir. I am still calibrating some of the communications components."
"That's fine, JARVIS."
"Tony, about Pepper..." Bruce began, and then hesitated. "I thought you said you had sorted her out?"
"I thought so too," Stark sighed.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Fandral," Thor rumbled quietly, "A word."
The shorter Aesir groaned inwardly, but followed his old friend to Stark's outdoor balcony. Thor did not look at him for a few moments, standing silently with massive arms folded across his chest as he looked out over the Midgardian city skyline.
The lines on the god's face were deep, and Fandral thought-not for the first time-about how his friend had changed. He was less grandiose now, less eager for battle, and grimmer sometimes than Hogun. The past several years had been filled with mourning, betrayal, war, and death; the cost had been high. Fandral couldn't remember the last time he had seen Thor smile, nor laugh, nor enjoy a tankard of ale, nor take his ease with a female companion. Life's pleasures seemed to have abandoned his friend, and he wondered how-if at all-he bore the burden of his coming kingship.
"Do you know why I brought you to Midgard?"
The question was a surprise.
"We have journeyed together so long, I gave it no thought," Fandral replied honestly. "When you say you need me, I pack and I come. All of us do. Why would we not?"
"And yet now that I need you the most, old friend, you abandon me," Thor said quietly. "Oh, you are still by my side, obviously, but you abandon sense for some petty duel with a child, when I need all your senses for the upcoming conflict."
Fandral scowled. "I know not what you mean."
"I think you do," Thor rumbled, looking down at the shorter Aesir. "I have seen you take on 20 men, fully armed and meaning evil, while stone drunk, and come out the victor. You dispatched many of them with a single blow, perfectly delivered. I have entrusted you with field commands against the fiercest of Asgard's enemies, and you have devised stratagem that are even now being recorded for young warriors to study. I have seen you glance at a map for a few moments, and re-create its route flawlessly for days, without sleep or sustenance. Not without reason did I introduce you as the best with a blade, be it a knife, or a sword, or a cutlass, or e'en a bow and arrow. You are one of the best and fastest tacticians Asgard has ever produced, and your powers of observation are legendary. Yet now," Thor scowled, "now, given a glimpse of our enemies' stronghold, e'en a glimpse of his mind, you recall next to nothing. Vague shapes and sounds are all you have to offer, and the details are being fleshed out by a Midgardian child barely of age to drink, much less fight."
"I tried to warn her off, for her own good, but she..." Fandral sputtered, but Thor cut him off.
"Your foolishness with the maid was uncalled for; family and friends tend to such matters. You are neither," Thor said sternly.
"I minded her of an old enemy, whilst she does flirt with the god of lies and chaos! Should I let that..." Fandral began to protest yet again, but Thor interrupted angrily.
"Aye," he growled, "Art an adult, are you not? An' she is but a child. You know better than most the fragility of Midgardians, in mind and in body. Betrayals and injury sting them deeper and cripple them longer than they do us, an' they have less time to deal with them, so short is their life-span. If named an enemy-likeness, then you ought to have withdrawn, an' spoken to me or her kindred of your concerns. Instead you did bully the child, and continue to do so, e'en after together facing our common enemy. For shame, Fandral! I did think to bring a Knight of Asgard into this conflict, but he has disappeared, and a bully has taken his place!"
Thor's words stung; the shock appeared on Fandral's face, and for a moment he hung his head. Thor turned to his old friend with his brow knit together, and placed a massive hand on his shoulder.
"What ails you: that you act like this? I know not this petty man that wears Fandral the Dashing's armor. Did the Mad Titan give you some injury whilst he held your mind? I need you here, but if you are wounded beyond our ability to help, then send you home I will, and call for another counselor."
Thor's face was dead serious; Fandral knew he meant every word. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.
"I was angry with the maid, initially. Oh, she be nothing I would sport with, no matter how angered or drunk I be, worry not," Fandral waved a hand at Thor's worried look. "I truly only meant to caution her about the Shadowed Prince, at the first. But when the Titan took my mind," he shuddered at the memory, "every foul mood I have e'er had towards a woman, every petty thought towards these tiny people, did boil up within me. I've ne'er felt such hate, not e'en towards trolls or Jotnar, and I taste it still in my mind."
"Why did you not..." Thor began, concerned, but Fandral waved him down.
"Let me finish," he scowled, "it may be that this will finish the exorcism Stark's maid began with her sorcerer's tool. I felt the pain o' that, an' so did the Titan within me. He can feel pain, so there's that, at the least." The thought made the swordsman's face brighten for a moment. "He can be hurt. An' if he can hurt, he can die."
Thor nodded. "Good news, that is," he said quietly.
"I saw much of his Command Chamber, 'tis true," Fandral continued, and he frowned. "Tis filled with darkness and sorcery and death. The screams of the dying fill the place; there be prisoners there e'en now, mark my words. Help with constructing an image o' the foul place, I can, but understand what I saw? Nay," he shook his head. "Tis beyond me."
"Loki was in his company for a year," Thor said quietly. "His insight will be valuable."
"That worries me the more, an' is the reason I hesitated to say aught in his presence," Fandral confessed. "There were another in that chamber of our acquaintance, besides the graven image o' Loki's spawn." The swords-master looked suddenly worried, and Thor was concerned. "I did not wish to mention her in his presence, lest what hold he has on his sanity be lost for good."
Comprehension dawned on Thor's face. "You speak of Angrboða: Loki's lover of old."
"Aye, I do." Fandral nodded stiffly.
"Has she sided with the Mad Titan? T'would be madness indeed, if Loki learned such. Her seidr was near as great as Loki's or Amora's; if she has taken up with our enemy..."
"Nay, she is dead," Fandral rasped. "The Titan has killed her, and taken his time doing so."
Thor stiffened. "Loki did confide: the Titan's servant promised to make him hurt, that he would wish for something as sweet as pain. If there was e'er one woman in the Nine Realms that he e'er loved, it was Angrboða. Had they plotted together, they could have easily conquered the Nine long ago, but their lust for each other eclipsed Loki's desire for power. You were right to keep silent of this, in Loki's hearing. He teeters on the edge of madness e'en now: e'en bound as he is. This could well send him beyond reason."
Fandral nodded. "I will help with the image, but tis best, I deem, if the victim of the Titan's slaughter remain anonymous for now."
"Aye, I agree," Thor nodded solemnly.
The pair looked silently over the late afternoon sky for a few minutes before Thor spoke again.
"This explains not your treatment of the maid, Fandral," he prodded.
Fandral sighed.
"When the Titan left me to take the maid, our minds..." he struck his fists together with a glancing blow, "touched so. There be no secrets between us at all, now, and she doth despise me for it. I have done things, Thor, that were you to know, you may not name me a friend, nor e'en wish to know me at all." Thor looked amazed at the younger Aesir, but the swordsman's face was dark. "Know you this, O Prince: I am not the man I once was, and that is good. I hope I have forged a better name for myself than I once had, riding with you. Such glory and decency should not be mine; I do not deserve it."
"Yet you have earned such in centuries past," Thor protested. "Art neither as old as Loki or I, nor as experienced in darkness as e'en Odin your King. Heimdallr knows all you have e'er thought or done, and does not treat you with the scorn you speak of now. How can this be so? And why bully the maid? Wouldst add cruelty to children to some dark list of misdeeds? I understand this not, old friend."
Fandral looked penitent for a moment. "I just thought to distract her from my past, to keep her from speaking of it. If you would know of my past shame, tis better you hear it from me, and not blubbered from the lips of some curse'd Midgardian wretch."
Thor's face darkened with anger. "You would slander her again, in my presence? Fandral, I swear..."
"The maid is cursed, Thor. She must be sent home, lest she doom us all!"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Thank you for calling One Hundred Miles! Can I take your order, please?"
"What is the biggest Philly Steak-N-Cheese Hero you have?" Sauer bit her bottom lip; she hadn't called this place in a while, and the operator sounded new.
"We have small, 6-inch, foot-long, and the six-foot party platter, ma'am."
Damn. "Is the 'Where's my Lipitor' size still available? I have a lot of sports fans to feed."
"That requires 24 hours notice, ma'am, but it is an option."
"Would a very large tip help the cook?"
"That is a lot of beef and cheese, ma'am, and we may not have enough in stock this late in the day..."
"I can make it worth your while. We're going to be up very late."
"Hmmm...the real question is...how worth is our while?"
"Your delivery is coming to the top floor of Stark Tower, ASAP. Need the credit card number?"
There was a delicate cough on the other end of the line. "Nope, we have that on file. Your sandwich should be there just before 8pm. You want sides with that?"
That was new. "Depends, what are my options?"
"Oh, the usual: chips, cole slaw, super-size dill pickles, and a beverage."
"Is there caffeine in that beverage?"
"You betcha."
"Sounds great. Have your delivery buzz up when he gets here. I'm in the top suite."
"Will do."
Sauer hung up her phone and took a deep breath. The next call was going to be even harder. She closed her eyes for a moment and pictured little Prince George, and then pulled out her cell phone.
"East Side Sportsman's Club, this is James, how can I help you?"
"Dad?"
"Princess! Hey, darlin'! How is New York?" He pulled the phone away from his mouth for a moment-she could tell by the sound-and yelled. "Hey! Sigmund! Come watch the counter! Your sister's on the phone!"
There was a scuffling sound, and Sigmund's voice was in her ear.
"Hey, runt! How's the Big Apple? You taught Bloomberg the difference between a popgun and an assault rifle yet?"
"Have you seen me in a dress? Has Hell frozen over? Don't be a dick. Give me Dad, wouldja? This is serious."
There was another scuffle.
"Sorry about that, Princess. What's up? You need a new Flashbang for your office-wear?"
"Dad..."
"Your brothers out there treating you right?"
"Dad, I..."
"Say 'Hi' to Hawk-boy for me, would ya? And tell him if he doesn't behave I'll kick his ass. Dad protocol, you know."
"Dad, I need to..."
"Stark want to add something interesting to his new jet-pack?"
"DAD!"She finally had to yell to make him listen. Typical.
"Sorry, Princess. What's up?"
"Do you still have the phone tree in your office?"
"Which one?"
"The PEW Tree."
There was a moment of silence at the other end of the line.
"Honey, are you serious?"
She sighed and rubbed her forehead.
"Yeah, Dad, I am. Like a heart attack."
More silence.
"Is this an Avengers thing?"
"Don't say the A-word, Dad. You know how touchy-feely the NSA and SHIELD can be. Just start the damn tree, wouldja? I have a lot of calls to make, and shit's getting serious here."
"Language, sweetheart."
"Sorry, Dad."
"I'll start the Tree. It'll glow like Yggdrasill when I'm done."
"Like what?"
"You really need to brush up on your Norse Mythology, Princess. You know who your boss hangs out with now, right?"
"Um...yeah." She spared a glance at Prince Thor, who was having a quite chat with Fandral the Asshole out on the balcony. "Yeah, I really do."
"He's right there, isn't he?" Her dad was no slouch; she knew that he knew just by his tone.
"I love you, Daddy."
"Love you too, Princess."
Sauer's eyes started to mist as she hung up the phone. Her entire biological family was in Colorado, and that seemed light-years away. Would she ever see them again? She didn't know. There was a cell-phone snap to her left, and she looked up into Clint's crinkled face.
"You ok, Annie? I heard you yell."
She sighed. "Yeah, it's just my dad. Sometimes he can be impossible, especially when I'm trying to get him to listen. The usual parent stuff, you know?"
"Not really. My old man died when I was a kid." The archer shrugged.
"Oh, by the way, Dad says hi, and behave yourself or he'll kick your ass."
Clint chuckled. "He probably could, at that. Your dad's a tough old bird." He cocked his head at her, curiously. "What's a PEW Tree?"
She shrugged. "Preparing for the End of the World, of course. Our family is connected to every gun and ammunition manufacturer across the planet. It's way more useful than five degrees of Kevin Bacon."
"Cool." His cell started to vibrate in his hand. "Oops, better take this one. He's a touchy character."
"Old friend?"
"Not exactly." Clint's phone flipped open. "Allo, Jarl?"
The land-line cradled on her shoulder, Sauer's right hand started dialing more numbers. Her left hand found a pen and a random pile of paper, and she started doodling. It was going to be a long night.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Dr. Banner withdrew to a quiet corner and pulled out his cell.
"Hello, Sam," he said when the other end went to voicemail, "Bruce here. Look, I know you don't really want to talk to me, but I wouldn't call if it wasn't important, so if you can call me back..."
"Oh, bugger. You know I'm listening. Banner, how in the bloody hell did you get this number?" Sterns had always been a grouch, even before his own gamma accident. Now he was perpetually green and touchy, as well as brilliant.
"I...have a new set of friends. They helped me," Banner offered tentatively, glancing momentarily across the room at Fury and Stark.
"Yes, I saw you two years ago with your new set of super-friends. You finally got the public recognition you wanted for destroying everything you touch, and now you want to rub it in? No, thank you," the genius snapped.
Bruce sighed. "No, Sam. That isn't why I called."
"I could have done just as well against those mutated toys of Ross's labs as you did, and done it without destroying half the city, I'll have you know!" Bruce could easily imagine the sneer on Samuel Stern's face. He had seen it many times, in both forms. He reminded him a little of Loki, but a different color.
"Glad to hear it. By the way, Ross didn't create that mess."
"No? One of your healing experiments gone awry, then? Or do you expect me to believe this alien invasion claptrap that S.H.I.E.L.D.'S database is buzzing about?"
"About that..." Banner's head was starting to pound. Samuel Stern was a freaking genius, but he was also infuriating as hell. He rubbed his temple, trying to lower his blood pressure. "There's somebody here you really need to meet."
"Please tell me it's the Romonov woman. That big blond boyfriend of yours isn't my type," Sam snarled.
Banner's right eye started to twitch. "You aren't Thor's type, either. Besides, he already has a girlfriend, and she's better looking than both of us put together," he snapped back.
"Oh, right: that astrophysicist from New Mexico...the one working on the Einstein-Rosen Bridge project," Sam's voice softened a bit, "what is her name?"
"Dr. Jane Foster."
"Yes, a lady with admiral qualities all around: both beauty and brains. Incredible genetics, that girl has. Whatever happened to her?"
Bruce thought Sam sounded a little wistful. "I'm not certain, Sam. I think she managed her ERB trip last year with Thor. She hasn't been seen since."
"Lucky girl."
"Perhaps not. I had a quiet word with Prince Thor after he and his party arrived. Apparently all is not well in Asgard, and he won't talk about Dr. Foster." Banner's head was starting a slow throb. According to Thor, something very, very bad had happened to Jane-and a number of Aesir-since Thor had last been seen on Earth. It was frustrating to not have the whole picture, and when Dr. Bruce Banner got frustrated...well...
"You're really serious about this, aren't you, Brucie?"
"Yeah, Sammie, I am."
"That whole grey-skinned-alien-invasion-thing..."
"Yes, Sammie, that was real."
"And the flying grey crocodiles..."
"Yes, those too."
"And you're calling me now...why? Oh holy shit...is that Loki character real, too?"
The real Loki seemed to hear his name mentioned on Banner's cell from across the room. He flashed Banner a characteristic Loki=smirk-all the more alien because he was still blue-and Banner caught the image with his camera phone.
"Sending you the photo now, Sam," Banner said, pressing the buttons needed. "And get this: he's here to help."
There was a moment of silence.
"You've got to be kidding, Brucie. Please tell me this is some joke you cooked up with Ross while he was drunk."
Dr. Banner sighed. "No joke, Sam. All bets are off, and all personal vendettas are officially cancelled. Nick Fury is talking to somebody from MARS now-some Scottish guy named McCullen, I think..."
"James McCullen? As in Laird Destro the 24th? Is Fury off his rocker? Destro will sell to both sides!"
"There's only one side now, Sam," Bruce sighed. "This time, the super-villain can't be bought. He's some alien bent on eating the planet."
"Eating it."
"Ripping it apart like an orange, sucking it dry, using its resources to build his armada, drinking the souls of its children...eating it."
More silence...then..."How much time do we have?"
"I don't know, Sam. We only got word from the Aesir today. I was going to call Emil Blonsky next. We need all the muscle and tactics we can find. So, are you in to save the world, or what?" Bruce's head was still throbbing, but it had settled into a manageable pulse...for now. There was that annoying crick in his neck though...
"I'm in. Better let me call Emil. I don't think he likes you, Brucie."
"It's mutual. Fine. You call Emil and I'll call Ross. Somebody has to get Thunder-bolt out of bed. He expects bad news from me anyway."
"For the record, Bruce: I'm sorry about Betty. She was a good woman."
Bruce passed a heavy hand over his eyes. "Thanks, Sam. Yes, she was."
"Banner..."
"Yes, Sterns?"
"How big is this armada you mentioned?"
"Prince Loki said it would fit nicely in our asteroid belt."
There was a genteel cough from the other side of the line. "Right up Emil's alley, then. I'll make a few calls as well. Where can I get you?"
"Just call me back on this phone. We can set up a conference call, if necessary."
"I'll do that. Goodbye, Bruce."
"Goodbye, Sam."
Dr. Banner shut his phone with a decisive click and sighed. What kind of hell was about to be unleashed on his world, that he was willingly working with both the Leader and the Abomination? His head hurt...poundpoundpound
A paper airplane landed in his lap with a thwip, startling him out of his dark thoughts. Banner looked down. There seemed to be something scrawled on the top of the wings. He squinted at it over his glasses until it came into view.
_A NaCl_
THE NaOH !
He crinkled his eyebrows at it for a second, until the absurd chemistry pun worked through his brain. Banner hadn't done anything this silly since middle school. He glanced over at Mouse, who looked oddly innocent: as if there was NO WAY she had just thrown any paper airplanes.
Then she lost it, and giggled. And he caught it, and laughed.
"Whatcha got there, Doc-boy?" It was Stark, of course. He handed him the paper airplane, and the man snorted.
"I found a Ferrous Wheel in my lab last week. I still don't know how she got in there. You gonna send anything back?"
"I can't think of anything appropriate..."
"Gentlemen, allow me," the God of Mischief said smoothly. Stark and Banner both twitched; neither had heard him coming. Taking the paper airplane, Loki quickly fashioned a horned-dragon. A single "I" appeared in black ink, and a perfectly-scripted formula arched down its neck and back in gold ink. Finally it took flight, soared across the room, and landed neatly in front of Sauer. She picked it up, looked it over, and promptly burst out laughing.
Banner frowned. "I don't get it," he confessed. "You made a dragon and drew an ether of carbolic acid with Iodine on it?"
There was a chuckle from behind Loki: the Arch-Bishop. "It was a one I'd, one horned, flying propyl phenol ether, lads." The old coot had the temerity to grin. "I taught chemistry before I became a priest," he confessed. "I couldn't manage the origami dragon, though."
"If one jests, one should have style," Loki insisted.
"I have always thought so," the Arch-Bishop nodded. "Now, if we can get back to that treaty...
The pair wandered off again, leaving a dumbfounded pair of geniuses in their wake. Banner finally broke the silence.
"'Doc-boy', huh? What does that make you, 'Jon Arbuckle'?"
"Good Lord, no. I'm Garfield, thank you very much: the only fat cat in the building!"
"Which makes me 'Joan Arbuckle', since I own you," Pepper teased, sneaking up behind Tony and hugging him.
"Awkward," Bruce coughed.
"Not really. You should see him tie into lasagna," Pepper said, smiling. She gave Tony a playful swat on the rump. "Back to work, nerdfest. I need to have a word with Nermal, over there." So saying, she sauntered off to speak to Sauer, who was shuffling some papers together.
"Nermal? Shouldn't Sauer be Squeak?" Bruce gave Tony a funny look, and the man shrugged.
"You're the only one who calls her 'Mouse'. In this tower, she's Nermal: the only little cat who ever Judo-chopped Garfield."
"She..."
Tony shrugged again. "We were sparring. Sauer was trying to show Pepper some defensive moves. The kid is good."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Sauer looked up as her boss walked up to the makeshift desk, which was littered with various chemistry puns and other scribbles.
"I'm sorry, boss, but I'm going to have to take this to my actual desk. There's just too much noise up here for me to concentrate, and every time I blink, I have to reset my head," the girl admitted.
"That's alright," Pepper nodded, and then motioned to the pile of scribble. "Do you need any of this?"
"No," Sauer admitted, "it was just stress-buster stuff. I can't exactly go to the gun range now, or work out my stress on my sword," she added a little wistfully.
"We have a gym," Pepper said sagely. "Captain Rogers and Agent Barton work out there all the time. Maybe you can beat out some stress with a sandbag before you head home."
"Not in this outfit," Sauer looked down at the frilly blouse and pencil skirt Pepper had chosen for her. "I'm afraid if I make a proper fist that the seams will rip out. I'll have to packworkout clothing from now on, I think." She gathered up the pile of chemistry puns, put the dragon on top, and headed for the door. "I'll run the rest of this through the recycler when I get downstairs."
"Alright. Make certain you call for that press conference with the major news networks," Pepper reminded her. "I want to speak to them day after tomorrow, just after noon."
"I'm on it, boss," Sauer smiled at her mentor and headed into the elevator.
Sauer didn't notice the few pages that fluttered down from her collection, but Pepper did, and the older woman instinctively reached for the litter. The top page caught her eye, and she peered at it curiously. Somehow it didn't seem like a simple chemistry joke. If it was, she certainly couldn't understand it.
"Tony?" She flagged her lover down, and showed him the page. "Is this another one of those chemistry puns?"
Stark's eyes widened. "Ah, no, dear; it isn't. Where did you get this?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"JARVIS, I need you to assist me with my language arts for a while," Sauer spoke up when the elevator doors had closed. "My speaking language changes every time I blink."
"I have been monitoring the language difficulty, Miss Sauer. How can I be of assistance?" The AI replied.
Sauer told the AI of her visual aid, and the computer agreed to provide her work space with several photographs of the royal toddler. "Might I also suggest a verbal prompt code, in case you begin speaking in a dialect not in my database?"
"Sounds great, JARVIS," the young woman replied as the doors opened. "Perhaps we can use..."
She never got to finish. Five steps outside of the elevator Sauer tripped over Mjolnir, which lay where Thor had dropped it. Papers scattered across the narthex, and Sauer landed unceremoniously on her face, bloodying her nose and one of her knees. Her big toe gave way with a crack, and the toenail split in two, bleeding copiously on the tile floor.
Sauer rolled over from her landing spot, blinked tears at the sudden pain, and saw what she had tripped over. It was the last straw, and Sauer forgot her city-manners, cussing a blue streak instead.
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FLOOR!?" she screamed. "YOU'RE A MAGICAL WEAPON THAT CAN MANEOUVER ON YOUR OWN, NOT SOME DEAD PIECE OF ROCK! THAT," she pointed to the blood that now stained the tile, "IS INNOCENT BLOOD, AND I DEMAND THREE STRIKES FROM YOU TO REPAY THE DAMAGE! NOW MOVE THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY BEFORE YOU HURT ANOTHER OF YOUR MASTER'S ALLIES!"
Mjolnir quivered, as though considering Sauer's words.
"DON'T JUST SIT THERE, YOU SHORT-HANDLED PIECE OF NEUTRONIUM! GET IN THE CORNER! NOW," Sauer roared. She was pissed.
Mjolnir shook again, but rose and floated to the corner nearest the elevator, humming in a penitent fashion.
Sauer scrabbled to her feet again, her nose dripping down her blouse. "JARVIS,' she whimpered, "where are the nearest first aid supplies?"
"('! !(!%!*!* %, !#)!(!( Sauer, ! )..." the AI replied, and Sauer burst out crying. Somehow she was speaking All-Tongue again, and JARVIS couldn't help her. She reached for the phone to call Pepper, and cast around for some Kleenex for her nose...
A man's hand gently pushed a wad of tissue into her hands. "Why is it," the familiar voice mused, "that whenever you're around Asgardians, you end up covered in blood?"
Sauer blinked, confused and bleary-eyed from crying. He couldn't be here already...could he? She had only called a little bit ago...
She looked up into the kind eyes of Agent Phil Coulson; eyes that still glowed a little blue around the edges, she thought. He smiled.
"Hey, Pistol. Rough day?"
She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed.