AU-2: Vengeance Tears Chapter 7: Sir Percy, an avengers fanfic

Chapter 7: Sir Percy

Beavie's Coffee Shop, Queens, New York

When the Rolls pulled up in front of the coffee shop, Janet wished she'd suggested someplace a little fancier. The car was longer than the shop front. The driver bobbed around and opened the door for her, and she stepped out.

"Is he here?"

"He was when I left him here to go pick you up." The driver shut the car door, then trotted over and opened the door to the café. Janet stepped inside.

A handful of patrons were scattered among the tables. Janet leaned back to the ask the driver, who was still holding the door: "How will I recognize him?"

The driver's laugh caught him so unexpectedly he nearly spit. "Uh . . . trust me. You'll know."

He closed the door, and Janet turned back toward the patrons. The young couple close by to her right wouldn't be who she was looking for. But there was an older man with a full gray beard sitting in a window booth against the wall. She took a step toward him, only then to notice he was wearing suspenders. She somehow didn't think this Edward Percy was one to wear suspenders.

She turned back to her left to look down the aisle of booths that ran the depth of the coffee shop . . . and saw someone who made her catch her breath.

Coming toward her was a tall, elegant gentleman, striding confidently forward, complete with cape and cane. A slender face with prominent cheekbones was set with coal gray eyes. A full head of jet black hair was pulled straight back. His goatee was as black as his hair – not a hint of gray.

He was young! Probably only a few years older than Janet. She hadn't expected this – she assumed anyone with Percy's academic background and a "Sir" in front of his name must have lived a long time to accomplish it. She found herself thinking she might have gotten herself into something bigger than she wanted, but in an entirely different way now. The man carried himself with such authority, yet grace, the coffee shop seemed to shrink around him by comparison.

"Ms. van Dyne," he said in that impeccable British accent as he approached. He stopped a few paces away.

Janet found it surprisingly hard to speak. "Yes."

"I'm Edward Percy." He gestured behind himself. "Please. I've taken the liberty of securing a booth in the back, where we can talk privately. I hope that's alright."

"Yes . . . of course."

He led Janet to the very last booth against the back wall of the narrow restaurant. He then extended his hand to help her into the seat.

As he settled in across from her, she stammered. "I . . . apologize. I realize now I should have picked a nicer place."

Percy waved his hand. "Not at all! Truthfully, I find it a refreshing change of pace from Manhattan. It always feels a bit confining to me in there."

Janet smiled. She would have loved to be in Manhattan right now. "Well, after I saw the car . . . ."

"Oh my. I hope it didn't put you off." Percy seemed genuinely embarrassed. "It's just . . . . Well, may I be a bit transparent with you, though we've just met?"

"Of course," Janet said.

"Well, it's always seemed to me that Americans have to be impressed – you know? – before they'll listen to what you have to say. Once they learn a bit about me, the car seems to be what they expect. So I give it to them. It's more efficient that way." He sighed. "But I do wish people would simply accept each other on their own terms."

Janet liked this guy. "Listen, I can't thank you enough for meeting me on such short notice."

"Ms. van Dyne, it is I who should be thanking you."

"Please, call me Janet." Something about this guy was instantly charming. Janet was having a hard time keeping in mind he was a Knight of the British Order.

"Very well . . . Janet. Then call me Edward."

Janet giggled – then inwardly was appalled at having done so. "So what brings you to New York?"

"A . . . meeting," Percy hesitated slightly.

"Oh? Genetics conference?"

"Ah, I see you've done your homework on me." Percy smiled. "Yes, there's one taking place almost every week of the year somewhere in the world."

Janet nodded. Then was aghast to realize she had no idea what to say next. Percy came to her rescue.

"Before we go any further, what do you say we order coffee?" He produced a plastic-coated menu from a holster against the wall, and slid it toward her with a wry smile. "And I must say, if the quality of the coffee in this establishment equals that of the plastic and vinyl, I fully expect one of the finest cups of my life."

He said it with such a twinkle in his eye and a playful twist of a smile on his lips, that Janet couldn't help but burst out laughing. Then he broke out in a warm, hearty laugh himself. "Forgive me," he said, still laughing. "But you seem so self-conscious about the place, and I truly want you know you needn't be. I'm just delighted at last to be talking with the daughter of Vernon van Dyne."

Janet's laughter migrated into a wistful sigh at the mention of her father. "So you never told me how you knew him."

"Right. Well, one of my interest areas is evolutionary genetics – the study of genetic changes that cause, or are caused by, evolutionary progress. One of the characteristics of evolutionary change that interests me is resistance and immunity – how organisms sometimes evolve, say, a natural immunity to a substance that's toxic to other species. Or resistance to a stimulus. The applications of such research are staggering to consider of course – imagine manipulating the genes of a bacterium to prevent it from developing resistance to antibiotics, for example. All of our fears about antibiotic-resistant bacteria would be eased."

"Anyway, several years ago I read in one of my journals that your father was working on resistance, albeit not genetics. So I contacted him. We shared some data and I think both definitely saw potential. But alas, I gather your father was still looking for a breakthrough when he was killed."

"He was," Janet answered. She leaned forward for emphasis. "But I think I've been able to find it."

Percy was impressed; it registered in his eyes. "Indeed? May I ask what it was?"

"Nanomanipulation," Janet said. "Achieve the correct nano-alignment of melatonin and certain other substances, in just the right order, and you can give the body resistance."

"To what?" Percy was leaning close, too.

"Radiation was what Dad was working on. As for what else is possible – which substances and which alignments will provide immunity to which stimuli - we're really only scratching the surface right now."

Percy's eyes widened with interest. "Radiation," he repeated softly. Then a shadow passed across his face. "Alas, the motivation of his killer becomes clear."

Janet nodded agreement. Then she thought of something. "How did you know my father was murdered?"

"It was in one of the e-journals I take. Your father was respected in many fields of research. His death, sadly, made news across the globe."

Janet nodded again.

"If I may," Percy continued. "Earlier you said 'we' are only scratching the surface. I take it you have research partners?"

"Yes," Janet began enthusiastically. Then stopped herself before she said more. Their initiative was supposed to remain a secret.

Percy looked concerned. "Are you certain that's entirely . . . safe? I mean, if your father was indeed killed over his research, isn't it possible whoever killed him may come after you?"

Janet hesitated over what to say. "I think I'll be alright. As much as I can be, anyway."

Percy didn't seem convinced. "Janet, even though you and I have just met, I considered your father a valued colleague. And I know he would want his daughter well cared for after his passing. Indeed, having met you, I have no doubt you were the apple of his eye. You are positively lovely."

Janet had to fight the urge to push her hair back behind her ear self-consciously.

"So I want you to look me in the eye and promise me, as a man . . . . Are. You. Safe?" He leaned slightly closer with each word, as if driving home his point. His gaze was dead level and earnest.

Janet was deeply moved by this man's concern for her. As a result, she wavered, ever so slightly. The images of the recent attack on their lab by Blake's enemy raced through her mind. She didn't want to invite any further inquiry by Percy into the Avengers project. But she wasn't going to sit here and lie to him, either. They weren't safe. They all knew it. Not as long as that . . . entity . . . was still out there.

"Mr. Percy," Janet began.

He immediately interrupted. "Edward."

"Edward," she began again. She shook her head in hesitancy. "I think I'm as safe as can be expected." She paused. "But I do worry. I won't lie to you."

Percy continued to hold her with that concerned gaze. Then he reached into his shirt pocket and fished out a business card. "Tell you what." He turned it over and wrote something on the back. "Here is my card. And on the reverse, I've written my personal cell phone number. Only about a dozen people around the world have this." He slid the card across the table to her. "If at any time . . . any time . . . I may be of any service or assistance to you at all . . . anything . . . I beg of you, please do not hesitate to call that number."

Janet took the card. The familiar University of Oxford logo was stamped on the front. "Alright," she said, swallowing hard. "Thank you."

He kept staring at her a few seconds more. Then he sighed and sat back. "Well, I do believe we have neglected our coffee order. Tell you what: why don't we order, and then I'd love to hear more about these nanomanipulations you're doing. They sound fascinating."

After the coffee arrived, they spent the next two-and-a-half hours discussing Janet's research. Janet was amazed. Outside of her father and Pym, Janet had never found anyone she could talk to about her work and have them understand it. Even Stark lost interest once he realized it didn't involve machines, gadgets or weapons. Yet Percy kept pace, word for word . . . even asking probing questions here and there that gave Janet ideas for new research directions. And through it all, he managed to interject witty comments and clever turns of phrase, even about a subject as dry as nanomanipulation. The time flew by.

At last, Percy sat back again. "Janet, this has been a real pleasure for me. I haven't enjoyed a conversation like this in . . . ." He shook his head. "I can't remember!" He laughed.

Janet laughed too, and felt deeply flattered.

"In fact," he went on, "I must say I haven't enjoyed an evening this much in years!"

Janet couldn't believe this. She hadn't enjoyed an evening this much in years, either. But she wasn't a Knight of the British Empire!

"Me either," she stammered back.

"You truly are a beautiful woman," Percy went on. "Beautiful of mind, and beautiful to behold. You've honored me with your presence tonight."

Janet felt ridiculous. "What? Here in my five-star dining room?"

Percy laughed. "It was the company that made all the difference." He pulled out a pocket watch and checked it. "But unfortunately, I'm afraid I must be going. I have a flight back to England in the morning. And you had better get back, too." He stood. "I'll have my driver take you while I settle up here."

"Oh no—" Janet started.

"I insist," Percy interrupted. "We're only a stone's throw from Stark's front gate, aren't we? He can drop you off and be back before I have my change."

Janet smiled and thanked him. Percy took her hand and kissed it. "Again, thank you so much for meeting me." The look in his eyes bespoke genuine admiration . . . and maybe something a bit more. "I bid you a pleasant evening." He kissed her hand again, then walked her to the door.

The driver was there to open it, and she stepped out into the fresh night air. The Rolls looked like a train car, monopolizing so much curb space. She slid back into the hand-crafted leather seats, the driver closed the door . . .

. . . and Janet exhaled gigantically.

"Oh my God! I haven't enjoyed a date that much since high school!"

Then she caught herself. Did I say date?

The driver opened his door and slid behind the wheel. Janet collected herself.

"Well, how was your evening?" the driver asked.

"Fine."

"And how did Sir Percy find the coffee?" The driver was obviously practiced at making small talk with his passengers. But Janet really didn't want to talk about her date with him.

"I think okay." She got an idea. "Say, do you drive for him everywhere he goes?"

He glanced at her in the rear view mirror. "Only when he comes to New York. Why?"

"I was just thinking, if this is his rental car, I'd love to know what he drives at home."

"He doesn't drive. He has drivers everywhere, even at home."

Janet amended her statement. "Well . . . I'd love to see what he rides then."

The driver smiled at her in the rear view mirror. "Winged steeds, I'm sure."

Janet chuckled. "No doubt."