Joyce waited a good hour before she slowly descended from her spot on the plane, she was in a large room with full of other things that look similar to the thing that she was just on.
She ran along the walls to where she saw the trio exit. Joyce found it and pressed the down arrow - since there was only a down arrow. The metal doors open and Joyce walks in, the doors closing behind her.
"Where to?" A monotone English male asked, from somewhere. But Joyce was alone. She licked her lips and asked to be taken to where... Steve... was taken to.
The request was apparently invalid, and the bodiless voice asked Joyce to try somewhere else. So Joyce tried again, this time thinking of something that just had to in a building of this size - a kitchen. The fact that hunger gnawed at Joyce's stomach was not lost to the blonde, but she wouldn't risk eating their food.
The request was accepted and the elevator went down and Joyce stood calmly to the side, out of way, should anyone join her. Though no one did as the elevator stopped smoothly and Joyce got off, foot steps silent.
She's greeted by a large living room at the far end of the room. It had a large dark leather couch and glass coffee table, with a love seat and a couple recliners, all directed towards a large flat screen. Closer to the elevator, in front of the living room section, was a long glass dining table that could easily sit up to 12 people. The elevator opened up to a huge kitchen with a loft on top. It had beautifully polished dark marble counters and a large island with dark cherry wood cabinets.
Joyce walked into the kitchen, looking through the different cabinets and drawers, being a naturally very curious person. When she opened a drawer near the stove, it revealed an assortment of many different types of culinary knives. Some short, some long, some thin or thick, there was a circular one. It was a pizza cutter if Joyce recalled correctly.
In the distance, there was the sound of a door opening and closing. Along with foot steps that increased in volume. Joyce grabbed a craving knife and silently closed the drawer. Climbing up on the counters, Joyce positioned herself on top of the huge fridge. Becoming as still and silent as a statue.
A man about her height, but much bulkier with greasy, wild black hair and oil stained clothes walked into the kitchen, looking half asleep and dead to the world. And there was an odd glow coming from the center of his chest, underneath his tank top. Joyce watched this odd man with mild interest and curiosity as he wobbled around the kitchen, muttering and mumbling to himself.
He looked familiar, but Joyce didn't have the chance to dwell on it, when a the odd man suddenly looked up and their eyes met. Joyce tightened her grip on the craving knife as her body tensed in preparation, her eyes narrowing at him. Ready to strike at a moment's notice.
"Who are you?" He asked slowly, seeing that the naked blonde on top of his fridge had a carving knife in her hand, along with an entire right leg of metal. The design reminded him of Bucky's metal arm.
Joyce ignored his question and there was a moment of tense silence, before the man spoke again.
"What are you doing here?" He questioned and this time, Joyce thought about her answer.
"I'm looking for..." She trailed off, her brows pinched together as she wet her lips. "I'm looking for Steve." She told him slowly, as her eyes drifted across the room, her hand with the knife lowered, relaxing a little.
Her eyes met his again, "He is here... right?" She inquired, a expression of hope and somberness on her face.
"Yes, I'm sure he just got back." The stocky man confirmed, inching his way closer to the naked blonde. "Why are you naked?" He asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Joyce spared a glance down at her nude body, and thought carefully about it. "I was never given clothes when I woke up." She explained plainly, her expression now neutral.
"Would you like some?" The man offered, causing Joyce to narrow her eyes at him, her body tensing.
"Not from you." She hissed at him. The man threw his hands up in surrender, but Joyce didn't relax.
Out of nowhere a tall pale man appeared out of thin air, sitting at the island with a young sleeping child in his slender arms. The child couldn't be ay older then 5 years old, and looked tiny in the arms of the giant man. Joyce raised her knife in reflex, though she would never dream of hurting the little boy.
"Loki?!" The shorter man exclaimed, whipping around to see the giant. Whose name is Loki.
"What is it Anthony?" Loki asked, his voice low and calm, looking at Anthony with annoyance, as the child in his arms began to stir.
"You need to get Peter out of here right now." Anthony explained, causing Loki to look up at him from the child named Peter. But quickly it shifted to the blonde woman who was slowly crawling off of the fridge, a carving knife in her hand.
She looked curiously at the child in his arms; her body language making it clear that she was more scared then threat. Which was proven a she put the carving knife back in its original drawer, her hands up in surrender. "A child..." Sadness was heavily laced in her voice. Anthony look over to her with shock.
Joyce slowly made her way over to the duo, crawling on the counters in a crouched way. Loki watched her every move with a calculative gaze, assessing whether or not if she was a threat to the child.
The blonde jumped silently over to the island, now just barely out of touching range. Should she move forward about a foot, she would be able to reach out and hold the sleeping child.
She was sitting with her legs tucked under her, and slowly inching closer to Loki and Peter.
"Is he Peter?" She inquired, making sure she got it correct. There was a deep sadness and long ago pain in her summer blue eyes. Her chest ached as some memories bubbled up to her mind, but she roughly pushed them back down.
Loki was about to answer her when Anthony spoke up instead. "Yes, his name is Peter and mine is -" he was cut off by a distracted blonde.
"Anthony." She supplied. She was looking at Peter with amazement, and a thought bubbled up in her mind. Would he have looked like this? Joyce choked down a sob. She couldn't have children anymore. Her hands pressed themselves to her lower stomach as the blonde looked at Peter with longing. Longing to have a child of her own.
"May I hold him. I swear I won't do anything except hold him?" She promised, desperation in her eyes, as she met his emerald green gaze. There was apprehension and distrust in those green depths. Joyce looked away, her eyes closing, holding back tears. "Never mind me then, I'll be leaving now." She turned to Anthony.
"Should Steve talk about me, tell him to meet me at the park, under the oak." She instructed and was about to leave when Loki spoke up.
"You may hold him." Loki told her softly, watching her as Anthony's jaw dropped in the corner of his eye. Joyce looked at him in pure surprise and barely contained glee and hope. Gratitude sparkling in her eyes, lighting them up.
"Really?" She checked with a hopeful tone and he nodded in confirmation. A small smile graced her lips and she righted herself. Her legs tucked under her as she shifted closer to Loki. The blonde held out her arms ready to hold the sleeping child.
Loki gently handed off the child to the blonde, who held him protectively against her chest. Peter instantly took a liking to the softer body of the blonde, instead of the hard bodies of his fathers and uncles'. His tiny hands reached out and grasped her dirty blonde hair, causing Joyce to let out a small huff of a laugh. She ran her hand up and down his tiny back, soothingly.
Anthony gaped at the woman. One moment she was ready to kill him with a carving knife. The next she was holding his son, as if he was her own child!
The stocky man opened his mouth to yell at the blonde, when Loki held a hand up, telling him to be quiet with a pointed look. He was going to complain, but the God of Mischief shook his head no. And Tony remembered the last time he didn't respect Loki's wishes when it came to Peter or something else of importance.
So Tony bit his tongue as a crazy naked lady held on to his son. But the moment of glowering was interrupted when the sound of footsteps and people conversing reached their ears. The sounds approaching them.
Joyce stiffens and reluctantly gave back gave Peter back to Loki, before standing up and quietly jumping over to the stove, grabbing the carving knife, then perching herself atop the fridge. Turning into a statue. Though it was more like a predator laying and wait for her prey.
Steve, Bucky, and Natasha walked into the kitchen, still in combat gear, and saw Tony and Loki staring up at something on top of the fridge. The trio nearly jumped out of their skin when they saw the very person they were looking for was atop of the fridge in the tower they lived in. They thought she was still in the forests of southern Canada, near the border of New York.
Steve's eyes near popped out of his head as he watched Joyce looked them over. Unfortunately, like before, when she saw Bucky, she froze and let out a whimper. Though instead of backing away, her eyes harden and she launched herself at the brunet, carving knife positioned to kill him. But Bucky caught the knife with his metal hand as Joyce's legs wrapped around his waist.
It all happened to quick to react to and the next thing they knew the carving knife was buried hilt deep in the 80 inch plasma flat screen tv on the other side of the large room, as the former HYDRA assassins were fighting on the ground.
Joyce somehow ended on his back and Bucky was trying to get her off of him. But with her metal leg, it didn't seem possible. But this was Bucky, deadly assassin with plentiful tricks up his sleeve. The brunet dug his metal elbow into her flesh thigh roughly, Joyce let out a hiss of pain in his ear as her grip momentarily lessens.
Bucky seized the moment to rip her off of him and spun around. The brunet pinned her hands above her head with his flesh hand, and pinned her metal leg with his metal arm.
They both breathed heavily and Bucky fought to keep his eyes on her's. Though they were spite and fear directed towards him.
There was a long, tense moment of silence, before Bucky got kneed in the no no spot. His face paled in pain and he rolled off of Joyce, holding his crotch. He glared daggers at her, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes as she sat up, turning towards Anthony.
"I would like those offered clothes now."