"WRITING."
"SIGNING."
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"Ms. Barton?" I groaned into the pillow, silently pleading for just five more minutes under the luxurious warmth of the covers. "I apologize Ms. Barton, but your breathing rate indicates that you are awake and your father wishes for me to inform you that your presence has been requested for dinner." JARVIS continued, keeping me from falling back into my peaceful slumber. I groaned, wrenching myself up from the bed. Of course Clint wouldn't let her have a few hours of – wait, did he say dinner?!
I signed my question up to the AI who replied that, yes, it was around six-fifteen and dinner would be served around six-thirty. I looked down at my wrinkled clothes and touched my hair, feeling the knots in it, a sure sign of a good sleep. I mentally cursed my luck. I had fifteen minutes to become presentable and to make sure I made a good impression of my family's teammates.
Lovely.
I dove into the bags I had yet to unpack and grabbed a fresh blouse and my brush. Quickly divesting myself of my old, wrinkled t-shirt, I pulled on the new shirt and yanked the brush through my long, auburn curls. It was times like these that I really wished that I had shorter hair. I hurried into the adjoining master bath and stopped short to gaze at the amazing bathroom. Damn. I definitely could have done worse for my first trip. There was a walk-in shower in one corner and a huge, jetted tub that could probably fit three of me in the other. One wall was completely dominated by a mirror and a marble countertop with a beautiful silver sink. Now, I wasn't too much of a girly-girl, but this bathroom made me want to squeal in happiness and spend hours taking a nice, hot bubble bath and pampering myself like there was no tomorrow. Too bad I didn't have time for that. With one last longing gaze towards the tub and shower, I stepped in front of the mirror and continued to comb through the rat's nest I called my hair. How could my hair have become so tangled after just a few hours of sleep?! I finally finished my hair, wrangling it to the best of my abilities, and looked myself over with a critical eye.
Hazel eyes that were more green than brown stared back at me in the glass, filling up my pale face. A few unwanted freckles dotted my nose and my lips were a pretty pink. I decided to forego makeup for the first meeting and hope for the best, racing back into the bedroom to check the clock on the night-table next to the bed. Six twenty-four. I could still make it on time, no thanks to Clint. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to wear shoes or not. Was this a formal meet-and-greet or a more informal family meal? I could have asked JARVIS but I just grabbed some flats and shoved my feet into them. If I didn't have to wear shoes I could easily slip them off. I quickly made my way over to the elevator, determined to make it on time to the dining room, wherever that was. Speaking of which, where was I even going?
"Uh, JARVIS? Where exactly am I supposed to meet everyone?" I signed sheepishly, pausing right before I pressed any of the elevator buttons. It seemed silly that I needed to ask the AI for directions in the building I would be calling home, but the place was huge! And it wasn't like I had received a map upon entering the skyscraper.
"The common area is located on the floor button where the giant A resides, Ms. Barton." The AI replied, and I swore I could hear some amusement in his electronic voice. I was confused at his answer though, and actually looked closer at the buttons this time. For the first dozen floors there were just normal numbers on each of the buttons, but as I looked to the upper floors, symbols replaced the numbers.
"What's with the pictures?" I signed to JARVIS curiously.
"Sir decided that it was too hard to remember where all the Avengers lived, so each of their apartments has a symbol that represents them. Your button is the one with the lips sewn together. I apologize for Sir's sense of humor. Unfortunately, you will probably be dealing with more of it in the future." I could practically hear the AI rolling his virtual eyes at Stark's brand of humor. I personally found it kind of funny. I certainly wouldn't forget which floor was mine. I took a moment to review all of the floor symbols. The top floor had a green arc reactor printed on it, which I assumed was the shared apartment of Tony and his soulmate, Bruce Banner. The floor below had the A JARVIS had mentioned printed on it in a bold, silver font. The floors below belonged to the rest of the Avengers; a frozen, pure silver shield represented Steve Rogers and his soulmate, Bucky Barnes', suite, a web with an arrow stuck in it was Natasha and Clint's home, the lightning bolt in front of a rainbow had to be the apartment of Thor and his mate, Jane Foster, but the others I was confused about.
"JARVIS? Who lives in the pictures under Thor's and the ones under mine?"
"The room directly below Mr. Odinson's that is represented with a taser belongs to Ms. Lewis, Ms. Foster's assistant. The button with the wings represents the abode of Mr. Wilson, aka The Falcon. The floor right above yours with the pepper shaker belongs to Ms. Potts. The two rooms below your with stick figures are the extra guest rooms. Your room was once one of these guest rooms. The floors below the guest rooms with the Ironman helmet, a DNA molecule, and the Milky Way are Sir's, Dr. Banner's, and Ms. Foster's personal labs, respectively. The next button, the one with the weights represents the gym. The button below with a sandwich is the cafeteria, though most of the Avengers choose to either eat in their rooms or in the commons area. All buttons with numbers are workplaces for Stark Industries' employees. Save for the cafeteria, only those with Avengers level access or explicit permission are allowed onto the symbolled floors. You have already been given access to all of these floors sue to your connection with Mr. Barton and Mrs. Romanoff." Wow. Okay then. Information overload. Realizing that I had been wasting time talking, and about elevator buttons no less, I pressed the button labeled A and leaned against the sleek silver walls as the elevator began climbing the floors. As the elevator ascended, I began to worry. What if they didn't like me/ What if I made a bad first impression? What if I made a fool of myself in front of the world's greatest heroes? I'd never live that down! I was about to have an anxiety meltdown when the elevator issued a soft 'ping' and the doors slid open soundlessly. I took a deep breath and entered the room…
To find only Clint waiting for me.
"Where is everyone? I thought JARVIS said dinner was at six-thirty?"
"It is." Clint signed back, smirking. "What I forgot to have JARVIS mention was that nobody actually shows up on time, and we all decided to order pizza. A nice, relaxed first meeting for you. It's not my fault that you thought you had to show up on time." I glared at him, eyes narrowed.
"You knew I would want to be here on time to make a good first impression, Clint! Why would you do that to me?! I was panicking you jackass!" I gestured angrily, my signing becoming harsher with my irritation. Clint merely shrugged and looked at his fingernails, reminding me too much of a teenage girl.
"Not my fault you thought you had to make a good first impression. I told you that we Avengers are like a family. This is my way of telling you to calm down. I knew you'd be panicked. Relax, Angel." He shrugged, as if almost giving me a heart attack was no big deal.
Now, some might think me stupid for tackling a master assassin, but this was Clint. He knew to let me attack, as I was about as much a threat to him as a kitten was to an elephant. He laughed as he allowed me to launch myself at him so that they both fell onto the couch. I tried valiantly to strangle him for a minute before he retaliated with his superior tickling skills. He had always known my weak spots. I silently squealed with laughter, tears running down my cheeks, and gave the sign for defeat. He relented, but not before causing me to fall off the couch in my giggles.
"Well, that was informational. Bruce, make a note that mute girls can, in fact, laugh." A voice above me spoke and I looked up to see a smirking Tony Stark next to an amused Bruce Banner. Great. I scrambled up and tried to right my ruffled clothing. I raised my hands to sign, but then I remembered that this wasn't Clint or Natasha and they probably wouldn't understand American Sign Language. I settled for giving the two of them a weak smile and a wave. I just wanted to curl up and die of embarrassment. Bruce chuckled quietly before he began signing, shocking me.
"It's alright. I can understand ASL if you need a translator, or you could ask JARVIS… or you could just use a pad of paper and a pencil. Whatever you feel the most comfortable with. And don't mind Tony, I'll reign him in if his jokes get too tasteless." My mouth hung open for a few seconds before a big grin spread across my face and I started signing back to him excitedly.
"It's so nice to have someone other than Clint and Natasha to sign with! I'd prefer a pad of paper and a pencil if that's alright with you. I just feel like that would be less awkward and I wouldn't have to rely on you or JARVIS to answer everything for me. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you." Bruce smiled gently and was about to respond when Tony made himself known again.
"Okay, if you're going to have a special no-talking club, then why wasn't I invited? I bring the fun. As mini-Katniss has an excuse as to why she's not answering me, that leaves it up to you, Brucie. What is being said?" Bruce rolled his eyes and shook his head fondly at his soulmate's shenanigans. I spoke up before he could respond.
"I can answer, you just won't understand me. It must suck to be a genius and not know something that the other three people in the room do." I signed and Bruce and Clint laughed. Tony looked between the three of us, confused.
"What? What'd she say?" I just grinned as the other two men shook their heads, refusing to translate. "Fine. I'll just have to learn sign language then." Tony pouted as he made his way towards what I assumed was the kitchen. Bruce shook his head again and turned back to me, holding out his hand for me to shake.
"As I'm sure you know, I'm Bruce Banner and that was Tony Stark. It's nice to meet you Angel. Clint has told us a lot about you. I'm sure you'll love it here and –"
"Oh, sure, now you talk in a language I can understand!" Tony shouted from the other room, making me giggle.
"Maybe I should get that paper and pencil before Tony gets really upset." Bruce nodded and looked up towards the ceiling.
"JARVIS, could we get a pad of paper and pencil or pen in here, please?"
"Of course, Dr. Banner. There is a pad of paper in the drawer of the cabinet to your left and Sir has pencils and pens lying around in various places. I'm sure he will be able to tell you where one is located."
"I refuse!" Tony shouted again as Bruce rifled through the aforementioned drawer, coming back with a pad of notebook paper.
"Tony, get Angel a pencil or no alcohol for you during supper."
"Jokes on you, I already have my scotch." Tony said as he sauntered back into the room, holding a pencil and a glass of amber liquid. "Now, since I am such a generous, caring person, I will forgive Angel and give her this pencil. And it has nothing to do with the fact that, without it, I can't understand her." He smirked as he handed it over, ruffling my hair as he walked past, like I was a little kid. I wrinkled my nose and straightened my hair; I hadn't brushed it just for Tony to ruin it again. I signed thank you to Bruce as he handed me the paper. He smiled and waved off my thanks.
"It was no problem." Before any of us could begin talking again, we all heard footsteps from outside the hall.
"Angel? Your girl's name is Angel?" I heard a deep, rough voice echo down the hall before the owner of the voice appeared with Natasha and another man. Natasha rolled her eyes.
"Yes, her name is Angel." She turned towards me. "Angel, meet Sergeant Bucky Barnes and Captain Steve Rogers." The men standing next to Natasha were huge. I knew that they were super soldiers, but damn. The man closest to Natasha, Bucky, was the bulkier of the two. His dark brown hair hung around his face in a tousled way that suggested that he had just rolled out of bed. His face was chiseled to perfection with gunmetal colored eyes that sparkled with humor and mischief. His lips were just begging to be kissed, and were currently pulled up into a slight smirk. I barely even noticed the bright silver of his metal arm, all I could focus on were his features before my eyes were caught by the other super-human beauty in the room.
Steve was slightly slimmer than Bucky, leaner where Bucky was pure muscle mass, but was just as tall. His blonde hair was cut without a hair out of line and gave him a sweet, innocent look somehow. His earnest, baby-blue eyes seemed to stare straight into my soul with a gentleness that just made me want to melt. While he was just as chiseled as his mate, he had more of a classical beauty than the sultry, sexy look Bucky was sporting. Steve was like an all-American Adonis.
Both faces were perfect, yet held so many emotions and so much history. These two men had been through hell and back, but were still going strong. They weren't just soldiers. They were fighters.
Bucky's stormy gray eyes suddenly locked with mine and I felt my heart skip a beat. The world seemed to slow as he said his first words to me, words that had been printed on my left hip since the day I was born.
"Well, damn. I've always wanted to meet an angel."
I gasped as his words hit me like a brick. No. It couldn't be. It had to be a fluke. Bucky was the soulmate of Steve. There was no information suggesting that the two of them were a part of a triad. I waited with bated breath to hear what Steve would say to me, both praying and dreading that his words would be a perfect match to the statement on the right side of her hips.
"Be polite, you jerk!" Steve chastised Bucky easily, bumping his shoulder playfully with his own before turning to me. This was it. This would prove that they were not my soulmates. Steve definitely wouldn't say –
"Don't mind him, he's just being himself."
Oh. My. God.
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AN: R&R my lovelies!