Hello again, all! I hope it isn't too quick to post another chapter... I just got too excited when I wrote this and wanted to post it sooner rather than later. As always, special thanks to Tiryn, Savarra, Marvel18, SirAvery, Tanley662, and my Guest for reviewing! Another huge thanks to those of you who are following and favoriting! Go make yourself a cup of tea and cuddle in bed and do whatever the crap you want!

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Enjoy the next chapter!

When Esca woke up the following morning, she was greeted with a, "Morning, Esca Rarity," and the smell of bacon and eggs.

This made her stretch and blink. She saw Pietro standing carelessly against the wall, as if he'd been looking out the window. "What are you doing!" she gasped. "Are you all right? Have you already regained movement in your legs?!"

He snickered at her wide eyes. "I feel fine, no need to worry."

"I do nonetheless," she retorted, crossing her arms and standing up as well. Her eyes fell upon the plate of breakfast that was carefully set at the edge of her bed. "What's this?"

Pietro looked at where she was glancing and exclaimed, "Ah, that. Steve Rogers made us breakfast. He's a pretty good cook."

Esca smiled at both Steve's kind gesture and at Pietro's comment. "I'll be the judge of that, I think," she teased, and then she began to eat. As she did, she figured Pietro was in fact correct—Steve was a good cook. Unfortunately, as Steve wasn't in the practice of drinking it himself, there was no coffee.

And coffee was an essential part of Esca's mornings. With a smile, she looked out the window. Another Starbucks was just around the corner. "I'm going to get some coffee," said Esca. "Would you like me to bring you anything?"

"Nah, but thank you," replied Pietro.

"Are you sure? Starbucks' lattes are to die for."

He just shook his head and replied, "Thanks again, but I'm all right."

Esca sighed—were she, Clint, and Tony the only normal people who actually drank coffee? But she shook off the thought and declared, "I'll be right back, then. Stay here—don't strain yourself too much. You might not be strong enough for that yet."

He only smirked and muttered, "We'll see about that," before she exited the room and took the elevator to the common area. When she arrived, she saw Steve and Clint sitting around the counter.

When they saw her approach, both offered a greeting. Esca smiled at them and said to Steve, "Thank you for breakfast, Steve. It was delicious, and very kind of you."

"Happy to help," replied Steve, a smile on his face.

"I'll have to repay the favor tonight," mused Esca. "If I'm allowed to remain here for another day, I'll cook tonight."

"You're welcome for however long you'd like, Esca," assured Clint, raising a glass of orange juice as if to toast her.

That made her smile. "That's wonderful to hear, Clint. At any rate, seeing as you two are the only ones here, I'll ask what you'd like for dinner tonight. Do you like French food, German, Italian, Indian? I can't do Mexican, so you're out of luck if you want burritos…"

"Who's talking about food?" asked Tony Stark's voice. Within another second, he emerged from around the corner, his eyes wide as he peeked into the common area. Seeing the three assembled, he asked Esca, "Was that you I heard talking food?"

She giggled. "It was. I was asking these two what they'd like me to cook for dinner tonight."

"You cook?" gasped Tony. With these words, he rushed forward, threw an arm around Esca's shoulder, and declared, "That's it. You're never leaving. You are automatically my new best friend, and best friends don't leave each other's Towers without cooking French cuisines."

Esca couldn't help bursting into laughter. "Very well, Tony, I shall cook French food tonight. I hope that's all right with you two?" This was asked towards Steve and Clint, both of whom nodded agreeably. Seeing this, she smiled again and exclaimed, "So it's settled. Now Tony, let me go! I have a date with another Starbucks coffee."

At her request, Tony removed his arm from around Esca's shoulder—with a grin, she waved farewell before exiting the Tower for Starbucks.

Another five minutes passed, as Esca was very hesitant in crossing the bustling street. It was like the cars would never stop arriving! Eventually, she simply ran through them in order to get her coffee, because she was already suffering from caffeine withdrawal.

When Esca entered the shop, however, her eyes narrowed. "I thought I told you to stay at Stark Tower," she sighed.

Pietro shrugged and grinned sideways at her. "You did. I just chose not to listen."

Esca moved towards the barista, who was patiently waiting for her order. Before she could say anything to him, however, Pietro added, "I can't believe you thought I wouldn't be able to walk across the street to a coffee shop."

"You had been shot a dozen times," retorted Esca, glaring at Pietro out of the corner of her eye.

He smirked. "Maybe so, but you healed me."

"I did, and it took me five hours to get all the bullets out of you, not including the extra three hours I spent giving you my blood so you wouldn't die from hypovolemic shock," she added calmly, pretending to peruse the Starbucks' menu. But then she turned to Pietro and smirked. "I've probably seen more of you than your girlfriend has."

This comment made him raise an eyebrow. "The joke is on you, Esca Rarity. I don't have a girlfriend."

"My point exactly."

The barista snorted, then instantly covered his mouth with his hand. Esca shot him a gratified grin as Pietro just glared at Esca and muttered, "I liked you better when you were singing."

Esca pretended not to hear this and said to the barista, "One caramel latte, please."

"Coming right up, miss," said the boy. He couldn't have been older than eighteen, and his face was somewhat pink, perhaps from restraining laughter at Esca's and Pietro's banter.

As the boy prepared Esca's drink, she turned back to Pietro and raised an eyebrow. "Anyway, what are you doing here, Pietro? I thought you didn't want coffee."

"Maybe I wanted to prove to you that I don't need bedrest," he announced haughtily, crossing his arms. Seeing Esca's expression, however, he added, "Or maybe I just wanted to meet you here and buy you a drink, since you saved my life."

"To be fair, you saved mine twice."

"But I didn't almost sacrifice myself to save you."

"Maybe not, but you almost died to save thousands of other people."

"Are you this determined to undermine yourself?" asked Pietro, astounded. "At Sokovia, you sounded so eager to fight, to help us, to be a hero. But now that you've done something heroic, you're downplaying your action, as if you don't want to be recognized. Why is that, Esca Rarity? You're an enigma."

Seeing his honestly curious expression, Esca sighed. "It's complicated."

"Hence the word 'enigma,'" grinned Pietro. Seeing that she was attempting to restrain a laugh, he grinned. "Look at that. It only took me three days to make her laugh."

"Congratulations," replied Esca, grinning despite herself. But she knew she couldn't become too close to Pietro. If she did, he might see what she'd gone through, who she really was, what she'd really done. They would never be friends if he knew—in fact, neither Steve nor Tony nor Clint would want to be friends with her if they knew, too.

Realizing this, Esca forced the smile off her face. Then, she said somberly, "In all honesty, I don't laugh at much. It's hard for me to get close enough to people so they make me laugh."

Pietro looked surprised and thoughtful as the barista came back and handed Esca her drink. When she reached into her wallet to grab the money, however, he gently placed a hand atop hers and said, "I got it."

Then he pulled out a five dollar bill, said, "Keep whatever is left," to the barista, and turned back to Esca, the thoughtful look still on his face. "You know," he said, "What you've just said has provided me a challenging opportunity."

"How so?"

"Well, if you've never had close friends before, you've obviously not let yourself be open around them. I think I'm going to offer you a bet to have the honor of becoming your friend."

"We're already friends," grinned Esca.

"Acquaintances, more like," corrected Pietro, though he was smiling still. "But I'd like to become better friends. If, however, that is to happen, I need to know more about you."

Esca sighed and gripped her coffee tightly. She glanced around—the barista was serving another customer, but otherwise the store was empty. Comforted, she waved towards one of the tables and replied, "All right. I'll tell you a bit about myself, if you continue to be insistent."

That made Pietro laugh—they sat at one of the tables, where he asked, "So where are you really from? I can tell you aren't American, based on your accent."

"You know, you're the second person in two days who's commented on that," chastised Esca playfully. "You've got an accent too, Pietro." He laughed; she smiled again and said, "But you are right. I'm not American at all. I was born in London, and I lived there until I was six. Then I was moved to Russia—three years later, I was moved to Germany. Then I ran to France for three years, Switzerland for two, and ultimately Sokovia for another two years. And now I'm here."

Pietro watched her carefully as she spoke, and then he said, "I'm guessing your experiences in Russia and Germany weren't pleasant."

Esca blinked. "How—why would you think that?"

"You said you were moved to Russia and Germany. And when you mentioned France, you said you ran," remarked Pietro mildly. "That indicates you weren't very happy."

She swallowed and was silent.

Noting that Esca had clammed up, Pietro quickly added, "It's all right if you don't want to tell me. Anyway, you seemed happy mentioning France…"

Esca nodded and took the opportunity. "France was my favorite place. I'm fluent in French thanks to my time there. While I never set eyes on the Eiffel Tower, I hope to return one day, go to Paris, and see what I could not as a child."

Pietro noticed that she was giving up more details of her past by her declaration of "as a child." But this time, he did not mention it. Instead, he asked, "How did you feel about Switzerland?"

"It was beautiful," sighed Esca. "There were dozens of mountain ranges and forests… I hiked throughout the country a lot. I wish I could show you what it was like. It truly was lovely."

"Like you," declared Pietro, raising an eyebrow and leaning back in his chair.

Hearing this, Esca flushed. "You are too kind, Pietro," she murmured. She tried to hide her pink cheeks by taking a drink from her coffee. She'd never been complimented so casually like that… Actually, she hadn't been complimented like that since Germany, and the compliments she had received there didn't make her feel good like Pietro's just had. She shivered, remembering Germany.

Luckily, Pietro didn't see that. He appeared lost in thought for a moment before chuckling. Esca heard it and asked, "What is it?"

"I've just remembered my bet," he declared, leaning forward. "I'm changing it a little. My terms stand thus: I have a joke for you. If you laugh, you have to get dinner with me sometime. If you don't, I promise I won't bother you again."

"Oh—" gasped Esca. On one hand, she didn't want to get too close to Pietro, in case he would end up knowing who she really was. On the other, she liked the opportunity to befriend him. "You aren't bothering me—you aren't!" she exclaimed at Pietro's sideways grin. "I just—oh, never mind. You must be very confident with this joke if you think it will make me laugh."

"Oh, I am," he promised, intertwining his hands as if plotting. "Here it is. What is the best thing about living in Switzerland?"

"What is it?"

"I don't know, but the flag is a big plus," answered Pietro, smirking.

For a moment, Esca simply stared at him. But then she realized—the Switzerland flag literally had a plus sign on it. Although she attempted to keep a straight face, she couldn't restrain her grin. She felt something bubbling in her throat and realized, just before it emerged, that it was a laugh.

And then she laughed, and she wasn't able to stop, the joke was so stupid it was funny.

"Got you," murmured Pietro. He had been watching her with his hands folded, but when he spoke, he moved them to reveal he was grinning. "Looks like you owe me a date."

Esca took a moment to stop laughing and breathe—once that was done, she said, "It looks like I do." Then, with a ridiculous grin on her face, she sighed, "God, Pietro. That was the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

He only chuckled and said, "That's what I was counting on. Does tomorrow sound good for you?"

"It does," she replied. "Anyway, I'm making dinner tonight for everyone in Stark Tower. I'll be able to introduce you to a little piece of France. Tony has requested I make French food."

With that, they left the Starbucks, Pietro still grinning with his success and Esca muttering, "I cannot believe you made me laugh at that," as they went.