Updated chapter 19! Hope you enjoy!

"I gotta say, for a ninety-four year old man, Captain Rogers is pretty blasé about your being gay." –Rhodey notes, as the War Machine armor performs a full systems check, its many hidden weapons and tools popping up and sliding back into place underneath the armored plates. "Time period he was from, you'd expect...otherwise. It's kind of heartwarming, knowing people have been good throughout history, circumstances and all."

"I'm, uh, pansexual, actually." –Kara clarifies. She snaps her golden belt shut around her waist, holding her skirt – a replacement, of course, the first one damaged beyond repair, only her cape and insignia surviving her tussle with the Hulk unscathed – in place. "But yeah, from what I know of human history...he really could've been, like, the worst."

Barton snorts, tapping his...earpiece? It looks a bit more involved than an earpiece to Kara. "Guy's way too naive." –he says. "Good person, no doubt, but he's woken up to a realshitty time and place. He's in for a rude awakening, soon as the shock of the whole alien invasion wears off."

"With the way Rogers has thrown himself into S.H.I.E.L.D. work, I don't see it happening anytime soon." –Natasha argues, leaning against her locker, already geared up and ready to go. "I don't think I've seen him out of uniform since the invasion."

"That can't be healthy." –Rhodey notes.

"I can't say I blame him, though." –Kara says, slipping on her boots. "Being in a...somewhat similar situation myself, you have this need to find something familiar. You just...gravitate to what you know. Before he went in the ice, all that Captain Rogers knew was the war, right? S.H.I.E.L.D. must seem like the closest thing to home, seventy years later."

"Yeah, well. Helps when your sweetheart turns out to be the badass who founded S.H.I.E.L.D." –Natasha says. "Fury barely had to say the words 'Peggy Carter' for Steve to sign up."

Barton shakes his head. "Man is a golden retriever in human form."

Romanoff hums, disagreeing. "More of a German shepherd, if you ask me. Fluffy cinnamon roll if he likes you, absolute hellhound if he doesn't – just ask HYDRA."

"That bad?" –Kara asks, curious, not exactly overly familiar with the details of Captain America's career in the Second World War.

Hawkeye tests the balance of his new, Stark-tech collapsible bow. "Ninety-five percent of his exploits are classified to this day. Give you two guesses as to why."

Kara raises her eyebrows. "Huh. He seems so...unassuming."

"Well, forgive me for saying so, but so do you, Kara." –Rhodey shrugs.

She chuckles, awkwardly. Romanoff nods at her. "So, is that why you stayed with the Danvers family? Familiarity?"

Kara considers this for a moment. "Maybe at first, but that didn't last long. Eliza and Jeremiah are great, don't get me wrong, but they aren't my parents. I know Fury tried to place me with foster parents who more or less matched their profile, but...well, I could never see them as a substitute."

"Alex, then?"

The Kryptonian smiles, wistfully. "Yeah, I guess that's it. Alex kinda hated me at first – Jeremiah could be kind of...neglectful of her, trying to make my every waking moment comfortable. And Eliza, well. I was pretty bad at concealing my powers, at first, and Alex was supposed to keep an eye on me, but she was, like, a teenager, y'know? She had her own life, her own friends – it really wasn't fair to expect her to drop everything for me. And sure enough, every time I messed up, Eliza would blame Alex for not being there to stop me." –she recalls, wincing at the memories. "But we bonded over time. We got picked on a bit; I was the weirdly strong, abnormally tall girl who accidentally crushed the clavicle of her very handsy prom date, and she was the, um...the d-word. The unkindword for 'lesbian'."

Barton shakes his head. "Fucking kids, man. They're the worst."

Kara wisely fails to bring up the fact that she's only twenty. "Anyway, we were both kind of...outcasts, I guess, and I didn't mind her tastes at all – sorta shared them, even – so we just clicked, y'know?" –she says, then smirks to herself. "Having a sister is the best. I had a lot of cousins on Krypton, but...my parents never wanted another kid. Probably had the clout to get around the Empire's genetic pool contribution requirements, too." –she says, then sighs, mournfully. "I'll never get back everything I lost when Krypton died, but...I'm so glad the Danvers took me in."

"Damn." –Rhodey says. "I guess you guys are used to this sort of thing, but...wow, you really are an alien, huh? 'Genetic pool contribution requirements'? That's wild."

"My homeworld had two moons and our star was red like fresh blood." –Kara says, amused. "You bet I'm an alien."

"Hate to break it to you, Rhodes, but we're not exactly used to this shit either. Kara's only the third alien we've ever seen – not counting the thousands of cyborg reptilian apes Loki threw at us, obviously. S.H.I.E.L.D. usually deals with much more mundane things, like the various black markets and illegal human enhancement." –Clint says, sounding all too tired of his new circumstances already.

Rhodes scoffs. "That's mundane?"

"Actual alien stuff is really rare, is what Clint's getting at." –Natasha says. "S.H.I.E.L.D. only gets to investigate when they touch down, like Thor in New Mexico. Everything beyond the lower atmosphere is S.W.O.R.D. jurisdiction, and they don't much like to share."

Kara raises an eyebrow; she didn't even know S.W.O.R.D. was a thing. "But there has been more, right? Foo fighters over Nazi Germany? Roswell-type stuff?" –Rhodes asks.

"Sorry. Most of it is bullshit. Cover-ups for the messed up crap humans have come up with – I guess the governments of the world consider rumors of alien activity to be more benign than, say, rogue mutants, or terrorists armed with old HYDRA tech." –Natasha surmises.

"There was this one story, though." –Clint muses. "Remember?"

Natasha nods. "Oh, I remember, alright."

"Our handler was a pretty secretive guy, but he let us in on a little secret." –Barton explains. "Said there was an...incident, in the nineties. Some kind of alien warrior, crashed on Los Angeles – looked like a normal, human woman, but could blast beams of light from her hands. Called herself a Kree."

"Don't forget about the shape-shifting reptilians." –Natasha reminds him, sarcastically, like she doesn't believe a word of it.

"Yeah, let's not forget about those." –Rhodey says, amused. "Y'know, most of the guys I've flown with over the years have stories. Weirdly shaped shadows, lights that move in ways an airplane can't...even heard something about this massive blip on the radar over the Grand Canyon early this year." –he says, shaking his head in disbelief. "I guess it's nice to know not everyone's full of it."

"Oh, most of them probably are. I'd put money on ninety-five percent of those incidents happening because the Helicarrier was around – its retro-reflective panels glitch, sometimes. Aliens do exist, and they're plentiful – we know from the data in Kara's pod, in fact – but they just don't seem all that interested in our planet."

"I wonder why that Kree warrior crashed here, then." –Kara wonders. "My pod crashed because the portal out of the Phantom Zone opened inside Earth's atmosphere, but...I feel like we would've heard about it if a spaceship had crashed into LA."

"Oh, no, there wasn't a ship." –Barton recalls. "Coulson said she just...fell out of the sky. Trashed a Blockbuster, I think."

Rhodey gave a wistful sigh. "Man, I miss Blockbuster."

Kara gives the older man a funny look, then turns to Barton. "Coulson's your handler? I remember him! He was super nice to me – he was there when S.H.I.E.L.D. found me, and he was so patient while my translator implant learned English. Probably the one S.H.I.E.L.D. agent I like, besides my sister." –she says, then blushes. "And, um...you guys, obviously."

Barton sighs. "...yeah, that definitely sounds like Coulson. Damn it."

"Coulson died." –Romanoff informs Kara, picking up on her confusion, face carefully devoid of emotion. "Loki murdered him aboard the Helicarrier, before the Chitauri invasion. Spear through the heart, nothing anyone could do."

Kara gasps, covering her mouth. "Oh, Rao, I am so sorry. I had no idea, I swear."

"S'fine." –Barton says, glowering, idly twirling an arrow between his fingers. "Phil died as he lived: confronting superpowered freaks he had no business messing around with. Probably has a shit-eating grin right now, wherever he is, knowing him dying gave Stark and Rogers the kick in the nuts they needed to get their heads out of their asses."

"Maybe not the most courteous obituary, but he'd have probably loved it." –Romanoff smiles sadly.

"He was one of the good ones." –Rhodey says, forlorn. "Pepper and I shared a few stories over beers with the guy after Tony's whole 'palladium poisoning' snafu, last year."

Clint snorts. "Well, since we're on this mushy, team bonding crap, I gotta tell you Kara, your punches are fucking terrible." –he says, crossing his arms. "Your technique is fine, but you punch like you're human – I don't care how much you think you can hold back; one of these days, you're gonna put your fist through someone's chest."

"Wording aside, he's right." –Romanoff says. "You always punch with your fists closed – and I get it, it's what feels natural, it's what the movies show you, but with the amount of force you're putting out, you need to spread out that power as much as you can."

Kara winces. Mindless though they were, she did kill hundreds of Chitauri drones with her punches alone. Thinking about doing anything similar to a human brings back horrific memories of seeing her fellow Kryptonians slaughtered before her eyes. "So then...what should I do, Agent Barton?"

He rolls his eyes at the moniker. "Assuming you're not ready to take a human life, your best bet's gonna be shoving people around; with your strength, it'll still take them out, easy, but you won't have to worry about breaking us fragile humans too much."

"Open palms, tackles, maybe a good roundhouse for some variety." –Romanoff suggests. "We'll teach you some moves next time we spar."

He nods at her, significantly more relaxed than usual. "And one more thing: do me a favor and drop the 'Agent Barton' shtick, will ya? If we're gonna do this thing, you might as well call me Clint."

Kara smiles brightly. "Right!"

"This is beautiful." –Rhodes says, deadpan. "But we really should get on with the mission. Clock's ticking on your date."

The Kryptonian rolls her eyes. "Shush, you. Let's go over the plan again, then."

As always, thank you for your attention! Make sure to comment or message me if you have any questions about this story. Look me up on Twitter as Darthkvzn or Tumblr as darthkvznblogs if you'd like - and on Ko-fi, as Darthkvzn, if you like what I do and have a buck to spare.

Until next time!