74. One Last Goodnight Kiss
NEW YORK CITY, 616TH EARTH
Having delivered their news, Pepper and Jane made their way to the exit. Thor walked alongside them for the duration. Having guessed his intentions, Pepper told him and Jane, "I'm going to go on ahead to the Mansion and issue the Code White. Jane, I'll catch up with you later." Then she slipped out the door, leaving Thor and Jane alone in the entryway.
"I regret we must part so soon," Thor told Jane. "Could you not stay?"
"I'd only be in your way," Jane replied. "And more importantly, I need to keep tracking that portal to make sure it does what I think. If my timing turns out to be wrong, I'll come right back and let you know."
"Will you sleep?"
"Darcy, Dr. Selvig, and I will take shifts sleeping and watching. Well…Darcy will probably make the intern do her shift."
"Then sleep well, Jane. I suppose I shall speak to you after we have attended to this portal and returned to Midgard."
"Please do," Jane blurted. "Return, I mean."
A look of concern crossed Thor's face. "Are you frightened?"
"Yes. I don't know why. I know you're strong. You can handle a lot. But I'm still afraid that something will happen to you on the other side of that portal, and I might never see you again."
"I promise to you, Jane Foster," Thor swore, "that I shall see you many times yet before I perish. I will return safely, and my friends with me. There is no force that could keep me from returning to you."
Jane smiled up at him. While she still worried – how could she not? – his promise washed over her, quelling many of her feelings. "Just in case…" she began.
"A parting token of affection?" Thor guessed.
She nodded. "Please." She reached up, lay her palm against his face. His arm wrapped around the small of her back, drawing her close. He leaned downward ever so slightly; he pressed his lips to hers. She drank the kiss in, somewhat greedily, wanting all she could take of him before he departed from her. At the same time, he was imprinting the feel of her lips into his memory to take with him on his journey.
Eventually they realized they had to part. And so they did, though reluctantly. "I love you," Jane blurted.
"I love you above all," Thor told her.
Jane let out a nervous laugh. "I'm never quite as eloquent as you about these things. I'm sorry."
"Do not be. No matter your words, I can hear what your heart says. It speaks loudly. Now do not let me keep you from that which you need to do."
"Good luck," Jane told him. It was all she could think to say. But he could indeed hear everything she meant. Her hopes and fears for him.
"Goodnight," he replied.
She left slowly, drawing the door behind her as sluggishly as she could. He watched until the last click of the door's mechanism, then turned to make his way to his quarters for the night.
Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy moved toward the rooms they had selected to sleep in.
"You okay?" Rainbow Dash asked Fluttershy.
"Yes," Fluttershy said softly. "I'm just thinking about…you know."
"I'm worried about her too," Rainbow Dash said with a nod. "If this portal thing turns out not to be connected to Osborn…I just might fly up to that helicarrier and try to get her out anyway, warrant or no warrant."
"I just hope that wherever she is," Fluttershy said somberly, "she isn't in too much pain or sadness. I hope she's at least comfortable, and has hope."
NEBULAPOLIS, RAGNANIVAL, ASGARD
"WOOOOHOOOOOOO!" Pinkie Pie screamed as she barreled down the streets of Asgard, drawing several stares in her direction. "ASGARD IS AWESOOOOME!" She gave a great gasp before exclaiming, "It's so beautiful and sparkly and twisty and turny and humongously epic and it's AMAZIIIIING!"
She pirouetted in an open square, singing, "Oh, the city of Nebulapolis is the best place for me!"
She danced a jig on a rooftop. "Oh, the city of Nebulapolis is the best place for me!"
She ran to the edge of an artificial lake. "Hip hip, hooray, it's the best place for me – " She executed a perfect swan dive, coming up to float on her back before finishing, "For Pinkiiiiiiieeee!"
She skipped down the street. "With so many spiraling towers and a beautiful palace at the center and everypony dressed in so many bright colors so it's like a rainbow walking down the street!"
She pirouetted through a garden. "Where there's pretty armor and pretty architecture and pretty armoires and pretty artworks and pretty arrangements! And I even have a new friend here that I can't believe is so nice even though I can't talk about him too much!"
She waltzed into a store, picking up and examining all of the wares on display, mostly ornamental decorations. "Oh, the city of Nebulapolis is the best place for me!"
She tried on several robes of different colors. "Oh, the city of Nebulapolis is the best place for me!" She eventually just put the dress Amora had given her back on.
In the square, she spread her arms wide and sang to the sky: "And I can't wait to bring my friends here and show them all the best things there are to seeeee! WHEEEEE!"
NEW YORK CITY, 616TH EARTH
Victor von Doom opened the door to the bunk he had staked as his quarters so that he could march with the rest in the morning. He was genuinely surprised to find Loki sitting on his bed, leaning back, hands pressed against the mattress, one leg delicately crossed over the other. Upon Loki's face was a coy smirk.
"I would have thought you'd be in Asgard by now," Doom told him. "Especially with the girl to think about."
"It can wait a while," Loki informed Doom. "I merely wanted to speak to you of tomorrow. Is it not almost incredible, that we are on the cusp of having everything we wanted?"
"You and I have been here many times," Doom reminded him. "And each time, victory was ripped from us."
"But we will at least take something, if not everything. I had so hoped this would be the time. The time that the realms would finally bow to our vision."
"You know I hope the same." After a short silence, Doom stated, "Namor has rejected the alliance I offered him."
"I won't pretend that isn't good to hear. Though I wish you had not persisted with him for this long."
"He told me not to offer him my heart, for it was obviously elsewhere. He was correct, you know."
Loki's smile broadened.
"You needn't test me anymore by kissing young wizards," Doom went on.
"I am VERY glad to hear it," Loki replied. "Though you must admit that Crouch has admirable ambition, as well as a lovely face."
"You and I are both opportunists, Loki," Doom pointed out. "I do not think it does either of us well to deny it."
"So it seems. Perhaps I should be more forgiving, then. But I also well know that neither of us is well suited to forgiveness when we have been wronged, even in the slightest." Loki laughed, slightly. "We certainly are two of a kind, aren't we?"
"You are one of the few I have ever considered an equal to me," Doom stated. "Though I suppose you find that an insult. An Asgardian, considered equal to a human."
"I think you and I both know that you are no ordinary human, Victor. I should think that 'equal' is a fitting enough term for now."
"By all rights, it should be us, shouldn't it? You who rules Asgard, and I this world. It appears to be only what we deserve."
"They don't believe it. They never do."
"We shall make them see it." Doom waited for Loki to reply; when he didn't, Doom asked, "Is there another reason you are sitting on my bed?"
"We are taking quite the risk tomorrow, after all," Loki said, grinning. "I imagine tonight is the night that everyone is dealing out their last kisses before the battle begins. And after all, you know where our hearts belong."
"I should have known you to wish for affection before we go to business."
"If you do not want me here," Loki told Doom sincerely, "say the word, and I shall leave. After all, as you pointed out, there are many things in Asgard I have yet to take care of."
Doom was silent again, not sure how to respond. Then: "I would prefer you did not leave just yet."
"As would I. Would it please you to come closer?"
Doom approached the bed, looking directly down to where Loki sat.
"Are you really going to leave THAT on your face even now?" Loki teased.
It was difficult – not physically, though – for Doom to perform the simple act of reaching up and removing his mask. He let it fall to the floor, letting Loki feast his eyes upon the imperfection in his face, upon the scar that traversed his skin. Loki had seen his true face many times before, but he still hated showing it. "It's no Barty Crouch," he seethed.
"Do you honestly believe me that shallow?" Loki asked. "You never have been able to get it into your head that your mind more than makes up for it."
"The point of the mask is to allow us all to focus on my intellect, Loki."
"Yes, but the fact remains that you still think you NEED it. It's only one scar, after all."
"We seek to make our worlds perfect, Loki. When I require perfection, I find it unacceptable to appear to be a hypocrite."
Loki laughed, then. "Well. That certainly says a lot about your opinion of me!"
"That it does."
Doom bent at the knee, putting himself at eye level with Loki. Loki was the first to reach out, placing a hand against Doom's face, drawing him toward Loki's own. When their lips first met, Doom felt as though the connection didn't quite fit somehow, as many times as they had done this before, but Loki was sure of what he was doing, slowly burying his fingers in the dark hair at the back of Victor's head. And so Victor became more sure as well, reaching up to place a hand on Loki's shoulder. Loki gently stopped him, placing a hand on his wrist. Their lips parted from each other, and upon a nod from Doom that he could do so, Loki slowly slid Doom's gauntlet off his right hand. Doom offered his left so Loki could repeat the process.
Doom then placed his bare hands on Loki's shoulders, placing his lips over Loki's yet again. He felt the barely perceptible laugh of pleasure that Loki emitted just before Loki began to slowly lean backward, twisting so that his course ensured his head would land on the pillow of Doom's bed. Doom followed his lead, clambering onto the bed, positioning one leg over Loki's own, all the while never breaking the kiss.
Asgard could wait.
Yellowjacket was locked in a staring contest with the Pym discs. After he had fully convinced himself he could do no more with them, he sighed and got up to take a walk.
As he rounded the corner, he was forced into a quick halt; he'd nearly collided head-on with Jan.
"Oh…!" she cried.
"…Hi," Yellowjacket greeted.
"Hi," Jan replied.
For a while, they both grasped at words. Then Jan said, "So tomorrow…"
"There's a good chance it will be…dangerous."
"Yeah."
Yet again, a loss for words, each remembering the time they would have said "I love you" immediately, before it was too late. The time when they would have passionately embraced. The time that had long passed.
"Look…Jan," Yellowjacket said. "I've been doing some thinking. And I'm still not done thinking. About who I am. About what I want. This…shouldn't even be about me. It should be about you. But I can't think of another way to say it."
"To say what?"
"Jan, I…deep down, I still think we want different things."
"Aw, geez, are you breaking up with me AGAIN?"
"Just…listen," Yellowjacket sighed. "I don't know where we are. I don't know if we should be…shackled down to each other, at this point. But I want you to know that no matter what happens, I'm glad you stood up for me. And I'm glad to have you as a friend at least. That's something I never want to lose. And…I'm sorry I abandoned you without talking to you more about it first. I didn't treat you with the respect you deserve. I made you think you didn't mean anything to me, and that's not true at all."
Jan was taken aback. "I…I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything. It's enough that you listened."
"No, no! I WANT to say something!" Jan protested. "I don't know where we are either. But I'm happy to have you as a friend too. I know…I used to get on your case for you being too serious, and now I get on your case for not being like you were. I can't really say I love you. But I do like you. And what you just said…it means a lot to me, Hank. Sorry. Yel – "
"Hank is…is fine."
Jan's eyes widened.
"I know," Yellowjacket continued. "It's still something I'm working out. But I can't run from it forever."
"Whatever feels best…Hank. Hey…good luck tomorrow."
"Same to you."
"Well, g'night!"
"Goodnight, Jan."
As they parted, Jan felt happiness brewing within her. The times of "I love you" and passionate embraces may have been long gone, but Hank was certainly not.
In her bunk, Natasha stared at the ceiling. She wasn't at all confident that she, Morse, Johnson, and Coulson would be enough to make any sizeable impact against Osborn once they reached Asgard. But all the same, they had to try. She wished Sam Wilson could be with them.
But even more, she wished Clint Barton could be there.
By now, had they been together, Natasha could have told Clint not only about Osborn's plan, but her fears and worries. And Clint would have responded with so much confidence.
She closed her eyes and thought of him. She reached out with her left hand, closing it over empty sheets and blankets.
Meanwhile, in his bed at the Wakandan Embassy, Clint stared up at the ceiling as well, thinking about Natasha. He wondered why she hadn't come to warn them about the portal. Two distinct explanations for that stuck out to him. For one, the portal was unconnected to H.A.M.M.E.R. For another…something had happened so she couldn't reach him.
He tried to tell himself it was the former, but couldn't help but worry it was the latter. He wondered what she'd say to him. He supposed she would worry, but eventually, she would call upon her inner strength, insisting that she and Clint face what was coming ahead with courage. To let their opponents believe they weren't afraid.
He closed his eyes, picturing her face. His right hand grasped at the bedclothes.
He was dressed in simple clothing: white shirt, black pants. His face was in full view, its paleness offset by the dark auburn of his hair. His traditional ensemble of bright yellow was stowed away in the room he'd chosen for his bunk, as well as his choice weapons. Opposing the view of several of his teammates – though many of them didn't have a choice in the matter; they were locked into their identities by what had been made of their bodies – he felt that as empowering as it was to be Shocker, when times were not so important and deeds not urgently in need of doing, it was refreshing to be able to fall back on just being Montana.
He strolled the halls of the helicarrier, familiarizing himself with its pathways. He thought about checking in with the rest of the Six to make sure they were sufficiently prepared for the journey to Asgard. He knew they were all competent, but at the same time, had the sneaking suspicion that certain of them weren't in the right frame of mind to take such an invasion seriously.
Montana had no delusions toward Osborn's intent to invade. He also had no problems with it. Sandman's little slip had summed up his feelings perfectly. There would be a lot for the taking in Asgard, not to mention the payoff that Osborn would give the group. No, Toomes wouldn't get his formal apology, ever, but he'd have to live without that. Whether or not H.A.M.M.E.R. would devote any time to reversing Electro's condition was dubious, but there was no saying Osborn couldn't do it. For himself, Flint, and Alex, there would certainly be enough money to go around.
And then there was Quentin Beck. Or Mysterio. Beck was so attached to that identity, Montana wondered if he actually even liked being called "Quentin Beck" when off duty. It was then that he realized his footsteps were taking him in the direction of Beck's room. Just as well, he thought, to check up on him before anyone else.
He announced his presence with one loud knock on Beck's door before simply opening it. "Makin' sure you're – " he began, but he was struck speechless when he saw what Beck, clothed in a crisp black shirt and matching pants, was working on. "The heck…?"
"Oh, these?" Beck stepped back and regarded his project. "Just a little insurance in case things go sour."
"So that's what your real voice sounds like," Montana observed. "And here I was thinkin' you put on that accent all the time. Even talkin' to yourself."
"A great artist must know when to rest between performances, of course," Beck replied. "I can't overplay my hand, after all."
"So I take it you don't insist people call you Mysterio instead of Beck when you're off the job, then."
"Well…" Beck smirked.
"Don't even think about making me."
"Of course. After all, you have to know what name to give the credit to."
"I guess," Montana replied. "Y'know, ain't many men I'd drag off a battlefield to stop them gettin' themselves killed."
"Then why did you?" Beck asked.
"You tell me," Montana groaned. "Though I reckon it's somethin' in the way you gotta make yourself stand out everywhere you go. You get up in a person's head, and suddenly everybody's lookin' out for ya."
"Are you saying you find me memorable?" Beck asked coyly. "In that case, I'm doing my job well."
"I'd drink to that."
"You called me a great director," Beck recalled. "During our little skirmish."
"What, you wanna dispute it?"
"Of course not. It's the truth. And yet I find myself wanting to know what it means when YOU say it."
"Depends," Montana replied. "What's it mean when you call me a good leadin' man?"
"Perhaps merely that. You are one of the better partners I've had to work with. I'd say you have a sort of…rugged charm. A nontraditional sense of class."
That got Montana to crack a smile, nodding his head slightly. "Never heard that one before. All right, fine. You wanna know what you got, it's the vision. It's off the wall, but you know what you gotta do to make yourself hard to forget."
"Are you implying I've been on your mind?"
Montana flinched. "Where'd you pick THAT up?"
"Well, you said I was hard to forget," Beck teased.
"You been on everyone's mind," Montana countered. "Most of all your own. Probably the 24 hour Mysterio channel in there."
"Not all 24 hours," Beck replied.
"Oh, lemme guess. Sometime, you gotta sleep. But I bet you even dream of yourself."
"You don't know what I dream about!"
"Bright lights, cheerin' crowd, people screamin' your name. Headlines sayin' you apprehended Spider-Man and the Avengers all at once. And lately, you been dreamin' about how everyone's gonna know you as one of the great invaders of Asgard. Am I missin' anything?"
"One thing," Beck admitted. "But I'm certainly not going to tell YOU what it is."
"Do me a favor, Beck," Montana requested. "Don't get yourself killed tomorrow, hear me? Might not be around to drag your ass out of it this time. And I wanna see you back here in more or less one piece. Got that?"
"Understood. And…do be careful, yourself."
"Got it." With a nod, Montana turned to leave.
"WELL?" Beck shouted. "You're just going to LEAVE like that?"
With a sigh, Montana turned back around. "What else do you want from me? One last kiss before we head off into battle in case one of us dies?"
"If you'd been paying any attention whatsoever, you'd have realized that a kiss is LONG overdue from when we first began!"
That surprised Montana; in effect, shocked the Shocker. "You…you sayin' you're in love with me or somethin'?"
"Well, it's hardly been long enough to call it true love. But have you missed ALL the signs? The arguments, laden with sexual tension? My reference to you as my leading man? I thought I couldn't have been more obvious. Especially after you came to me in my critical hour during the skirmish!" He folded his arms, incredibly miffed that his hints had gone over Montana's head. "You're one of the few to have told me you truly APPRECIATE my craft, and your charm has COMPLETELY gotten under my skin! And after all that, you're just going to leave with a warning for me not to be killed? Frankly, I'm disappointed. Perhaps I misread your cues as well. I had thought you reciprocated."
"…Well." Montana took a step, then another, back closer to Beck. "Didn't think ya had it in ya to feel that way 'bout anybody but yourself. Maybe I woulda said somethin' earlier if I knew…" He steeled himself. "But ya sure don't make it obvious! If you think you're gonna get anywhere just by droppin' hints!"
"Well? What WOULD you have said?"
"Maybe I'd've said that the reason you're on my mind so much lately is 'cause I actually think there's somethin' attractive about ya. Flair, class, that vision of yours. But how was I s'posed to know you'd actually listen to a damn word?"
"Well, I'm listening now, aren't I?" Beck snapped. "Or is that not enough for you?"
"Enough for me!" Montana practically yelled. "Question is now, what do YOU want?"
Beck then backed off, thinking it over. "Ideally," he said, "you would fire one last shot, then attempt to sweep me off my feet."
"Oh yeah? That's how you wanna run it?" Montana stepped even closer, as close as he could get. He put a hand, very gently, beneath Beck's chin. "That fake accent of yours is stupid as HELL." He then very slowly began to guide Beck's head toward his own. "And I love it."
Even Montana was surprised, when their lips met, how much he'd wanted it. He found himself wrapping his arms almost protectively around Beck. He considered cursing out the fact that he'd allowed himself to fall for one of his allies, but decided it wasn't worth it, because the moment was just too good.
Beck, on the other hand, reveled in the perfection of his latest vision coming true as his hands reached up to clutch at Montana's shoulders. He'd had doubts that Montana would actually return his affections, after all. He was more than glad to have those doubts proven wrong. When their lips parted, he did the only thing he knew how to do: he delivered the romantic one-liner, the truth he'd been holding back. "I dream about you sometimes."
"Kinda figured that out," Montana laughed. As he stepped back, he was very nearly overtaken with an uncharacteristic worry. Montana himself, he was a fighter, and had been from the start. Beck as Mysterio relied on methods other than physical strength to get his way, which was incredibly impressive, no doubt, but left Montana wondering how he'd fare if he should get roughed up on Asgard. "But you know what this means, right?"
"What?"
"DON'T. GET. KILLED. TOMORROW. Got that?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," Beck said with a wink. "Now, far be it from me to keep you from making your rounds…"
"Right," Montana said with a nod. "You just keep workin' on your backup plan." He nodded toward the fruits of Beck's labor. "Those're good, by the way."
"I know."
Montana left the room, closing the door on Beck, hardly believing what he'd just done. And yet not regretting it.
Electro sat at the edge of his bed, mask closed, contemplating. He heard one single knock at his door, and then it opened. Montana's voice asked from behind him: "You ready for tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Electro said, turning to nod at Montana.
Montana gave him a nod in return before turning to make his way to O'Hirn's room.
Electro shifted positions, lying across his bed and looking up at the ceiling, thinking about Asgard. He didn't even have the foggiest notion of what it was like. He wondered how different it was from Earth, and how different the capital was from New York City. He wondered if its warriors –
"Hey, you psyched for tomorrow or what?"
Electro sat up with a start to see Flint leaning on the frame of his door. "Oh…hey," he greeted. "I was just thinking about it. I wonder how different it is from here."
Flint nodded excitedly, bearing a large grin. "We're actually gonna get a chance to score ASGARDIAN loot. Betcha they have all sorts of stuff that would go for millions down here."
"Maybe," Electro agreed. "I'm not really in it for the money."
"Oh…right," Flint remembered. "So Osborn will get to work on that cure for ya." He still doubted Osborn would keep his word, but was reluctant to mention that again.
"Actually, I wasn't thinking about that," Electro admitted. "I was thinking about how good it'll be to fight as part of the Six again."
"Huh?"
"You probably don't know how much it means to me that Osborn brought us back together," Electro said. "Or at least the ones of us he did." He paused for a moment, glancing toward the wall.
"Man, you're gonna make me feel bad for almost breakin' up the team when we first got together." Suddenly picking up on the cue, Flint asked, "Got somethin' you wanna say?"
"It's a little personal," Electro said, "but ever since I became…this…being with the Six is the only place I ever felt like I really belonged. I couldn't live a normal life, and the people at Ravencroft can only pretend to understand what I'm going through so much. I HATE it there. With you…all of you, I mean…I actually feel normal." He turned his gaze back up to look Flint in the eye. "Like I'm actually something to someone."
"You're one of us," Flint said with a wink, "and we ain't lettin' you go anytime soon."
"Heh…" Electro couldn't help but let out a slight laugh. "You know, when I saw you out of all of them, I couldn't believe how you acted at all. You were altered, almost like me, but you didn't hate it. You made something out of it. You were always so happy about it. About almost everything. Then I realized it was because your condition didn't inhibit you in the same way mine did. All the same, it…it helped me realize that I didn't have to feel cursed all the time."
"Really?" Flint laughed. "Well, color me flattered!" His laughter died; his demeanor shifted slightly. "I didn't always think being Sandman was so great, y'know."
"You…didn't?" Electro was genuinely surprised.
"Nah…" Flint's gaze moved toward the bed. "It's a bit of a longer story. You mind?"
"No…" Electro shifted so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, near the pillow. Flint entered the room, sitting down on the bed next to Electro.
"So you know O'Hirn and I were in the crime gig a long time before we became Sandman and Rhino," Flint began. "But we were CONSTANTLY humiliated by Spider-Man. I'm sure you know the feeling."
"Too well."
"Anyway, Hammerhead comes up to me with this proposition," Sandman went on. "And I guess I didn't think too hard about it. I told him yes, and next thing you know, we're in Ock's lab, and he's wiring me up for it. Put me in shackles and everything. So about that time, I figure I wanna bail. But it's too late. They already have me right where they want me." He sighed. "It hurt like hell. I thought that was gonna be my last moment right there. When it was over, well, I was the Sandman. And I HATED it. I wanted nothing more than to just go right back to being plain old Flint Marko. So then Hammerhead starts pointing out the benefits and showing me how to use the sand power. He showed me how to get back to looking like a human, and he told me about the edge I'd have over everybody else. So after all this, y'know what I did?"
"What?"
"Punched him out and ran off on my own." Flint flashed Electro a mischievous smile. "He deserved it. Anyway, after a while, I figured out that bein' the Sandman is one of the best things that's ever happened to me in my LIFE. And that's the part where you come in."
"You and Rhino…both of you. I can tell you love what you are," Electro admitted. "Though I…tend not to pay as much attention to Rhino."
"Speakin' as O'Hirn's best friend, he's not the brightest bulb. Perfectly understandable. Hey, what was yours like?"
"My what?" Electro asked.
"Your transform – " Flint stopped himself. "Actually, you don't wanna talk about that. I know. Slipped my mind for a minute."
"No…it's all right," Electro reassured him. "You told me your story. It's only fair I tell you mine." He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly before beginning: "I was working for Dr. Curt Connors. I'd taken time off school to focus on my work. He hired me for basic electrical work. I was helping him rig equipment for a genetic experiment he had involving eels. It all happened so fast. Something went wrong with the piece I was working on, and…I can hardly remember it. I know it hurt. And I know I was…scared. I hate saying it, but I was scared. I have better memories of what happened afterward. They took me into the ER, and they said they'd never seen anything like it before. Like what happened to me. I guess I deluded myself into thinking they'd be able to fix me…but all they could do was contain the energy and stop it from spreading outside my body. They told me I might never be normal AGAIN." He realized that residual anger was creeping into his voice when he so much as talked about it. "It took me a long time to learn how to control it. I wanted to break out, like you did, but I didn't have anywhere to go except Ravencroft in the end. Especially after Spider-Man interfered." He sighed. "And that's where you came in."
After hearing Electro's story, Flint just looked at him for a while. Then Flint, taking notice of where Electro's gloved hand rested on the bed, slowly moved his hand over it. "That's…rough," he managed.
Electro was suddenly far more interested in the fact that Flint was actually touching him – albeit with a thick layer of glove in between. "You really aren't afraid of me," he asked softly, "are you?"
"Like I said," Flint reminded him. "Ain't nothin' that can kill me! How'd you think I brought you back if I couldn't touch you, anyway?"
"Why did you do that?" Electro asked. "Why did you defend me that night?"
"'Cause we look out for each other, right?" Flint replied. Then: "And also…'cause I like you. A lot."
"I…" Electro turned to face Flint. Suddenly daring to do what he had refused before. "You were right. On the roof. I FEEL something for you. The others all make me feel like I belong, but with you, it's different! When I'm with you, I'm…happier." The weight of what he'd just said seemed to hit him all at once, and he quickly turned his head away, averting his gaze.
"PERFECT!" Flint practically yelled. "I was hoping!"
"You….were hoping…"
"That you liked me back."
"Wait." Electro looked back to Flint. "You wanted ME?"
"I said you weren't half bad!"
"I THOUGHT that meant I wasn't HALF BAD. I didn't think that meant I was GOOD for you!"
"Sure you're good for me! You're always the one that encourages us to go on! You're always the one who leads the charge!"
"That's Shocker. Not me."
"Sure, he orders us around, but you're the one who runs into it all gung ho. By the way, did he come to your room to make sure you were 'ready' and 'not wasting time' for tomorrow?"
"Yeah."
"Somethin's up with him tonight. Not sure what. Eh, like it matters. You might not think it, but you're a pretty good catch. Only one problem with you."
"What?" Electro asked, somewhat nervous for the answer.
"You could smile more," Flint answered. "Minor detail, though."
"How can you even tell if I'm smiling when I'm wearing a…never mind. Flint…are you okay with 'Flint'…?"
"Yeah," Flint answered with a nod.
"…Thank you. I didn't know I could…mean something to someone. Does this mean we…"
"That we're together? If you want."
"I do," Electro said, almost hungrily.
"Y'know, I wonder if…" Flint trailed off, momentarily lost in thought.
"If what?" Electro asked.
"I'm just thinkin'," Flint mused, "we might be able to pull off a kiss. Like, a legit one."
"I…" Electro slid his hand away from Flint's, almost shaking. "I don't know if I can hold my power back enough. I'll hurt you."
"Betcha you won't. Oil tanker, remember?"
Electro pondered the notion long and hard. Then, at last: "I know I shouldn't. But…I want to try. If you do."
"Hell yeah I do!"
"Just promise me," Electro said sternly, "if it's too much, you'll back off."
"It's not gonna be too much."
"PROMISE."
"Okay, okay, fine," Flint caved. "If anything bad starts happening, I'll move."
"All right." Electro closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He willed his entire body to try and do his bidding, to not shine as brightly, to not radiate so much energy. Then he unmasked. "I'm ready."
They slowly moved toward each other; even Flint had slight doubts, almost fears, that the connection wouldn't work. But they found their way to each other. As Flint's lips met Electro's, he could feel the energy radiating toward him, and it shook him, slightly, but not to a damaging extent. It crossed Electro's mind that this is what it must be like to kiss a beach; a somewhat humorous thought. And yet it filled him with happiness.
Until he tore himself away, stood up, and stormed away from the bed, screaming, "No, no, NO! This is all WRONG!"
"Wha…?" Flint was left confused and rather disappointed. "Was I that bad?"
"No," Electro growled, refusing to turn and look at him. "You were perfect. I just thought this would be different."
"Different how?"
"I had hoped," Electro growled, "that for my first kiss, I would at least be HUMAN!"
Flint was absolutely shocked. "That was your FIRST? Wha – you shoulda told me! I woulda done it WAY different! Shifted so I was wearin' a suit! Put out candles!"
That response caught Electro completely off guard. And he laughed. Just once at first, but when he turned to see the grin on Flint's face, he broke out into full laughter.
"There, ya see?" Flint said with a shrug. "You look HOT when ya smile."
"I always thought that when the accident happened," Electro admitted, "I would never meet anybody. I remember telling Eddie. I can't believe that I wouldn't have met you without this."
"Just lucky, I guess," Flint replied. "Man, now I REALLY hate that I tried to break us up early on!"
"Don't beat yourself up about it. And, Flint…"
"Yeah?"
"Tomorrow. Whatever happens. I've got your back."
"It might get rough," Flint told him. "I'm gonna look out for you best I can, but if it gets down to between you and me, you take care of yourself, okay?"
"But – "
"NOTHING can kill me. I'll be fine. Got that?"
Unable to argue, Electro nodded. "I've got it."
Flint stood. "Now, you get some sleep before Montana comes in here and starts yelling at us for being out past curfew, okay?"
Electro nodded.
"Night, Sparks," Flint said as he moved to the door.
"Sparks?" Electro repeated.
"That one okay?" Flint asked.
"…I like it," Electro said with a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, Flint."
Crouch was also greeted with the sight of someone leaning against his door frame: Emma Frost, shooting him a rather sultry look.
"It's a shame you're spending this night all alone," she said.
"What, you're not angry?" Crouch asked. "Obviously, you knew what was on my mind all along. When you told me you were afraid for Loki's intentions, you were reading from my head exactly what you suspected was going on."
"I know," Frost said. "But you had your reasons. And let's face it. You and I are cut from the same cloth. We want the same thing, in the end. We've just been going about it a little differently, that's all."
She played with the hem of her skirt, hiking it up ever so slightly.
"And what is it exactly," Crouch asked, eyes locked on where her fingers met her thigh, "that we both want?"
"For the humans to submit," she said, eyes glimmering. "For those who wronged us to submit…for submission."
"Submission sounds VERY good," Crouch agreed. "There may even be some things I submit to."
"Is that the case?" Frost smirked. "What sort of things?"
"Why don't you test me?" Crouch invited.
"Hmm." Frost walked toward him slowly. "I accept your challenge."
She placed her hands squarely on his chest, pushing him down onto the mattress. She planted her mouth firmly upon his, licking at his lips. Crouch's eyes widened; he instantly wanted her. He turned his head, freeing his mouth long enough to say, "H-hold on – "
He managed to wrangle his shirt off while underneath her, tossing it to the side of the bed.
"Good thinking," Frost said, straightening up above him to undo her top.
Or so Crouch thought.
Frost steeled herself to keep from laughing as she, from her vantage point leaning against the doorframe, watched Crouch lick at empty air, removing his trousers for absolutely nobody. Of course she was still angry that Crouch hadn't told her the whole story. And Crouch didn't know the extent of her powers. Her revenge would kick in when the illusion of herself would disappear right when Crouch was at the pivotal moment. She turned and quietly shut the door, leaving Crouch to his fate of eventual disappointment by the Frost that wasn't there.
Though she knew she wouldn't go to the length of saying that she would never forgive him. They were, after all, cut from the same cloth.
Amora stood on the deck, looking out the great glass window at the bright lights of the city that never slept. Next to the spires of Nebulapolis, it almost seemed a toy city.
"Pitiful," she remarked to herself.
"I'm not quite sure what you're referring to, but I'm sure I share the sentiment, Amora."
Startled, Amora whirled to see who'd addressed her, though she had been able to tell immediately based on the accent alone. "ZEMO! What are you doing here?"
"I think you know quite well that I do what I please," Zemo answered, arms folded. "The better question is, what are you doing here? It is your home we are due to take by storm. Why are you looking at THAT? Thinking of your golden-haired pretty boy, perhaps?"
"Is it so wrong?" Amora snapped. "I resent that it has come to this. That he and I must come to blows over Asgard. Were he only able to see it my way."
"And what way is that? That Loki and his Cabal have the right to rule? Is that YOUR vision, Enchantress?"
"Loki brings with him a rule that would cement Asgard's power. Of course that is what I want!"
"Can he bring Thor to you? Or will he simply decide to destroy him instead? Oh, I shouldn't question you, should I? Of course Loki will drop a thousand-year grudge so that you may have what you want."
"If you don't have anything to say to me besides insults and mockery," Amora snapped, "then leave."
"It's no better than what you get from Thor. Or perhaps it is better. At least I talk to you."
Amora clenched a fist tightly, gritting her teeth. "He is ten times the man you'll ever be."
"Which is so obviously why he is locked away in hiding while I stand here, above everyone else."
"MUST you?" Amora exploded. "No matter what we do, no matter where we go, MUST you constantly remind me that you think you are better than everyone else?"
"Think, Amora? I do not THINK I am better than everyone else. I – "
"You ARE better than everyone else; is that what you were going to say? Do you not realize that you are in the palm of Loki's hand?"
"The position suits me for the time being. I have what I want. I do not need to prove anything to him just yet."
"I do not know what you are trying to prove to me," Amora hissed, "but you are utterly failing. I hope you fall in battle tomorrow."
"Does this mean you wish me a favorable fate in Valhalla? Don't think I don't know of your beliefs."
"That is NOT – " Amora was at a loss for words. "Why am I even SPEAKING to you?"
"Why are you, Amora? You could have walked out long ago. And yet here you are. You do know what they are all doing tonight, don't you?"
"Fine. I will humor you. What is everyone doing tonight?"
"They know the battle is coming. They know lives will be at risk. They are all giving each other one last goodnight kiss, in case it is the last chance they ever have. I know for a fact that Loki has visited the bunk of Dr. Doom, Miss Frost has paid a visit to Mr. Crouch. Montana has been making rounds…what a crude cover. And unless my eyes deceive me, Mr. Marko was headed for the room of Mr. Dillon. You know this. You want to pay your last kiss to the one you admire, but unfortunately for you, he's on the wrong side. What sort of choice have you made?"
"It was not a choice," Amora asserted. "The heart decides for itself. It has tied me to Thor."
"You say this almost as though you resent it."
"PERHAPS I DO SOMETIMES!" Amora screamed. Then she realized what she had said.
"You wish you could set your heart on someone else," Zemo challenged. "Be free of him."
"No!"
"Find someone who will actually fall in line with your vision."
"That is NOT what I said! That is NOT what I meant!"
"Someone who does not waste his time with the likes of the Avengers."
"MY LOVE FOR THOR IS ETERNAL!"
"Then wait forever," Zemo told her, "because that is what you will be doing."
Amora's breath caught in her throat. She blinked multiple times; her eyes were beginning to water, and she couldn't have that. "They all have their lovers to kiss," she growled, "and I have no one."
"What a predicament," Zemo said casually.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand. When have you ever loved anyone or anything besides yourself?"
"Perhaps never. It has served me well so far."
"Fortunate," Amora said softly.
"Well, I suppose if you are desperate, there is me," Zemo pointed out.
"AS THOUGH I WOULD EVER!" Amora screamed. "WHY does everyone INSIST – " She stopped herself midsentence, clenched her teeth.
"Perhaps it is because they figured out how similar we are."
"We are NOTHING alike."
"Truly? From what I can see, we both desire power. We both want to put those lower than us in their place. And neither of us can be trusted, even with each other. We play right into each other's hands. You ALMOST have the capacity to ruin me, and I most certainly have ruined you."
"I suppose we are similar in some regards," Amora admitted.
"And those looking from the outside," Zemo continued, "will wonder why we go out of our way to harm each other if we are supposedly worthless to each other."
"From the outside," Amora agreed, "I can see that as well."
"That is why everyone insists, Enchantress. And I will say, I'm impressed enough by your ability to keep up this far."
"If you want praise from me," Amora replied, "you'll simply have to imagine it."
"I do not need your praise in order to know I deserve it."
"You realize," Amora said, "that in the absence of Thor, you have offered a temptation. You have impressed me multiple times with your skill, after all. You are never one I could love. But under the circumstances of one night, you ALMOST offer me something to think about."
"I do not intend to go anywhere. Though I feel it important to warn you that I do not nearly have the same beautiful face as your thunder god beneath this mask."
"Perhaps it matters not," Amora said.
"Nor even that of Victor von Doom."
"…We do not speak of that. That was a LONG time ago." And, curious, she took a step toward Zemo.
"Love or hate," Zemo continued, "it seems our fates are tied together."
"So it seems, indeed." She stood before him. She reached out, gently brushed the edge of his masked face with her fingers. "Though I suppose you would like us to have even more in common."
"And how do you mean?"
"You would just like me to breathe in that virus of yours and start wasting away like you." She jerked her hand away, turning on her heel and stalking haughtily from the room.
Zemo couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, Enchantress!" he called after her. "And here I was afraid you'd forgotten how our relationship works!"
If there was anything on the H.A.M.M.E.R. databases about Asgard, one needed high-level clearance to access it. Bullseye was figuring this out the hard way.
Daken crept behind him, looking over his shoulder. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked coyly.
"Trying to figure out what we have ahead," Bullseye replied.
"Should it matter?" Daken asked. "You know what we can do. We can do it anywhere."
"You're right on that count," Bullseye stated, scooting his chair away from the terminal and standing. "Just thought it would give us a better advantage, is all. Just because one of my regular rivals constantly goes into situations blind doesn't mean I have to."
As he stood, he stretched out his arms, reaching one behind his back and grasping its elbow with his opposite hand. Daken regarded this display with interest.
"I'll bet you I can kill more of them tomorrow," he said. "Don't give me any shit about Osborn wanting this to be a peaceful mission. We both know what we're there to do."
"I'll take that bet," Bullseye said with a wicked grin. "I'll have twice as many slain as you."
"You've got a nice body, you know," Daken pointed out. "You could do with showing a little more of it off."
"And you've got quite a nice imagination. It comes up with a lot of ridiculous dreams that won't be coming true for you anytime soon." The grin never left Bullseye's face.
"Why don't I believe you?" Daken asked smugly.
"Wouldn't work out, babe," Bullseye told him. "You know what they say about egos clashing."
"Well, if Amora and Zemo can make it work…"
"They actually haven't. They're the only ones who don't see it by now. Your argument doesn't exactly hold water."
"Unless you're the only one who can't see it."
"What's this interest in me, all of a sudden?" Bullseye asked.
"Call it a case of not seeing what's right in front of me until it's too late," Daken replied. "And what I'm looking at right now is a VERY nice view."
"Perhaps a photograph would stand still for you longer," Bullseye suggested teasingly. "And if you try any of your little pheromone tricks on me, I will find out, and I will kill you."
"Go ahead. I'd actually look forward to you trying to kill me."
"I'd do more than try."
"So you think." Daken gave a slight laugh. "So you're trying to tell me that all this – " he gestured to his body, from shoulder to hip – "means nothing to you?"
"These," Bullseye replied, pointing two fingers at his own eyes, then turning them back to signify Daken's, "mean you're just looking to take whatever you want. I'm not going to be somebody's one night stand. Perhaps you'd have better luck if you DIDN'T try the night before a battle. You think everyone's easy then."
"You catch on fast," Daken replied. "So there's a chance."
"Yes," Bullseye replied. "And there's also a chance I'll become the bloody director of H.A.M.M.E.R. after the siege tomorrow."
He then turned and stalked from the room.
"You'll come around eventually," Daken said to his back. "They always do."
"All the better to be the exception, then," Bullseye said before he'd walked out of earshot.
Applejack had been drifting to sleep, cuddled up beneath the blankets of her bed at the embassy, when she heard a door creak open and then click shut in the outside hall. She thought nothing of the footsteps that ensued afterward. More likely than not, someone had to make a restroom trip. However, the footsteps came back…and passed their origin point. Then they turned and went back down their original path. Applejack listened to this go on for a while before she realized what was going on. Somebody was pacing.
She shook her head to wake herself up, sliding out of the bedclothes and moving to the door. She eased open the door to see who was treading the hallway. "Steve?" she asked softly.
Steve flinched, startled. He turned to meet her eyes. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry – "
"Nah. I wasn't asleep yet," Applejack told him with a smile. "Mind if I ask what's got you all up an' restless?"
Steve sighed. "It's…it's silly. I shouldn't even be worrying."
"You can tell me if ya want. Or you don't hafta."
Steve motioned with his hand for her to enter the hallway. "Come here."
Applejack nodded, walking into the hall. Steve took a few paces down it, and she walked alongside him. Steve stopped before an open door, gesturing toward it. Inside was an unoccupied room and an empty bed. "Tony," he said by way of explanation.
"Where is he?" Applejack asked softly so as not to wake the others.
"I think he's down in the laboratory," Steve said in equally hushed tones. "I'm just a little worried about why he isn't sleeping when we don't know what we're facing tomorrow. I don't even know what he has to work on that's so important. It almost makes me wonder if he's…stressed out." He shook his head. "I shouldn't be worrying about this, should I? What Tony does is Tony's business."
"Well, ya care about him," Applejack reminded Steve. "It's only natural for ya to worry. And I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you checked in on him."
"He'd probably just tell me to mind my own business," Steve sighed. "He does what he wants. I'm just being paranoid."
Applejack put a hand on Steve's shoulder. He looked directly at her.
"Go to him," she said sternly.
After a moment's pause, Steve said, "Thank you." Then he turned and made his way down the hall toward the laboratory.
Applejack watched him leave with a smile. She didn't know exactly what was keeping Tony up in the late hours, but she was confident that if Steve just confessed his worries, it would benefit both of them. She then realized that she was indeed quite tired, so she retired to her bed.
Tony had set his armor up in the center of the laboratory. He examined it, inch by inch, looking for imperfections. For room for improvement.
He heard a slight knock at the door. He looked away from the armor to see Steve there. "Hi," Steve said softly. "Can I come in?"
"Sure, sure," Tony answered, turning his attention back to the armor.
"What are you doing?" Steve asked.
"Improving upon perfection," Tony answered.
"It looks pretty good to me…"
"Trust me. There are always ways to move onward and upward."
Steve cleared his throat. "Tony…I'm a little worried."
"About tomorrow? We'll be fine. We always are."
"No, not…well, I'm a little worried about tomorrow. I always am when lives are at stake. Especially the lives of people I care about. But I meant something else."
"You wanna talk about it? I can multitask."
"That's the thing," Steve admitted. "I'm worried because you're down here working on this."
Tony froze, then turned to look directly at Steve.
"Not that you don't have the right to work on your armor," Steve said. "But we have no idea what we're walking into tomorrow, and you're down here instead of sleeping, and I was just worried that meant something was…wrong. I know, I'm probably just being paranoid. I just can't help it."
"I'm FINE," Tony snapped.
"That…didn't sound fine," Steve told him.
"Listen," Tony said sternly. "I've got stuff to work through, and I'm working through it. I've got this under control. Got it?"
"…No."
"What do you mean, NO?"
"I mean…" Steve looked to the ground sheepishly, then decided against it, steeling his confidence, looking Tony in the eye. "Tony, we've been through a lot together. We've fought the same battles. We've seen the same things. I know you don't think most people can understand your life, and maybe I can't, but I can try, because I've had a lot of the same experiences. But above all that, we're friends, Tony. You're one of my best friends. You're even…" He struggled to figure out how to define what he wanted to say. It hadn't come to him yet, so he let it be. "The point is, if something's bothering you, if you need to talk to someone, you can TALK to me. Please. I want you to talk to me. I don't want you to suffer alone."
"You don't need my problems," Tony grunted.
"You know I take on everyone's problems," Steve reminded him. "That's who I am, and it's what I do. I want to look out for everyone. ESPECIALLY you. It won't be a burden on me. What does hurt is knowing something's bothering you this badly and not knowing what!"
Tony backed away from the armor, looking long and hard at Steve. He could see the weariness in Steve's eyes just from trying to convince him to open up. The least he owed him, Tony realized, was to just be honest. And it was easier with Steve than anyone else, he realized. "Okay," he admitted. "There is something bothering me. If you really wanna hear it."
"Please, Tony. You can tell me."
"So you remember the Chitauri attack on New York, right?" Tony began.
"Yes…" Steve said, confused as to why Tony would lead in with such an obvious statement.
"Ever since then, ever since I went…through the portal," Tony admitted, "I've been having these…I don't wanna call them 'attacks.' I've been able to keep them under control for the most part so nobody sees. What happens is…I remember being on the other side, and I get this weird dizziness. It's annoying, really. So I've been keeping my mind off it."
"You're saying you've been having…anxiety attacks."
"Ugh, don't CALL them that. I don't GET anxiety attacks."
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Steve told him. "Back in the war, there were a lot of guys in the field who would get them. Strong guys. The ones you wouldn't expect. I never thought they were weak. It doesn't make you weak, if that's what you're afraid of."
"I'm not AFRAID of anything!"
"Okay…okay," Steve said quickly. He disagreed completely; Tony was showing definite signs of fear. But pointing that out would only make it worse. "How have you been coping with it?"
"Working on the suits helps," Tony admitted.
Realization hit Steve. "The suits you made. All forty of them."
"Forty-two."
"That's how you've been coping," Steve stated. "By making new suits."
"Basically," Tony confirmed. "Better than a lot of things I could be doing. Like drinking it off."
"I guess there's nothing wrong with making suits…" Steve thought out loud, "but it looks like you're still thinking about the things you're trying to avoid anyway."
"You have a better solution?"
"…No," Steve admitted. "These things can't just be fixed that easily."
"So now you see my problem. I want this anxiety or whatever to just be off my back. And it won't go away. It gets even worse when I sleep."
"Is that why you're not sleeping now?"
"The last thing I need," Tony insisted, "is another dream about it before I go into what might potentially be the worst confrontation yet in this H.A.M.M.E.R. shitstorm."
"Tony…" Steve could only look at him, for a while, taking in everything he'd said.
"God damn." Tony sighed, clenching his temples between two fingers. "See, now you're pitying me. I don't want you to do that. Stop doing that."
"I just…feel bad that you're…"
"Well, don't, okay? Scratch what I said earlier. The ACTUAL last thing I need is you thinking I'm some sad pile of nerves before we go into potentially the worst confrontation yet in the H.A.M.M.E.R. shitstorm."
"I don't think this makes you any less…you," Steve said hurriedly. "Any less competent, I mean. Just look at everything you've done since the Chitauri invasion. I know you're capable. Please don't think I don't."
Tony knew Steve was being honest. "I believe you. You get off lucky, you know. You don't have to deal with this."
"I…guess I don't know exactly what you're going through," Steve admitted, "but sometimes it gets to me. Sometimes I have to break down a little. Listen, Tony, if there's anything I can do…anything at all…will you let me know?"
"Well, you can't get this anxiety off my back."
"Is there anything I can do to help you sleep?"
"Not unless you feel like…never mind. Do you do this with everyone? Keep track of when we look stressed out?"
"No," Steve admitted. "I guess, even though I care about everyone's interests, I only ever keep track…of…you…" Realization dawned on him. What he had been trying to define earlier. "Because you're my best friend, Tony. And because you're a little more than that."
"You mean like a brother?" As he said this, Tony sounded somewhat disgusted.
"NO!" Steve replied instinctively. "No, I don't want to think of you like that! It's different from that."
"Good," Tony said. "So, are you getting at what I think you're getting at?"
"What do you think I'm getting at?"
"I think you want me, Steve Rogers." Tony grinned mischievously.
"You make it sound so lewd…" Steve said softly, sheepishly.
"But really. Am I onto something? Promise I won't use this against you."
"Well…yes," Steve admitted. "After everything we've been through, I realize that I care about you a lot. And I want to be with you. I hope that doesn't sound too forward. I don't want to ruin the relationship we have…"
"Y'know what, Steve?" Tony interrupted. "We have been through a lot together. And everything I told you tonight, I wouldn't have told anybody else. You are THE ONE PERSON. And also, you're pretty sexy."
Steve felt the heat rising in his face. "You're just saying that…"
"Steve, I'm not." Tony walked toward him. "You coming down here tonight was a godsend. Do you have ANY idea what you do to me?"
"So…to be clear…"
"I am, for all intents and purposes, physically and emotionally attracted to you. If we want to make it clear. Now, I'm pretty sure you were trying to tell me the same thing."
"I was," Steve admitted. "I didn't think I was your type, though."
"Steve. How many times have I actually been able to make it work out with my usual type? On the other hand, I can't get RID of you. In the best way possible. Now, on the other hand, I don't know your type. So I can go ahead and assume you have a thing for sexy rich guys who succeed at everything they do with flair."
"Well, you're the person I've felt the strongest about this way," Steve said with a laugh, "so that just might be it."
"Good thing there's only one of me, then. Wouldn't want competition."
"There wouldn't be. No one else could ever be you, Tony."
"So now that that's on the table, you mind if I do something real quick?"
"Like what?" Steve asked, though he could guess. His heart began beating all the more quickly.
"Standard kiss," Tony clarified.
"There's nothing I want more right now," Steve admitted.
At first, neither of them seemed to know when to move in. Then they both did at once, and all of a sudden, it was done; they were connected at the lips. Overcome with a surge of emotional passion, Steve wrapped his arms around Tony – quickly but gently – and held him closely. And Tony replied, embracing him tightly.
When they parted, Steve recalled what Tony had cut off from saying earlier. He hazarded a guess: "Would you be able to sleep tonight…if I was there?"
"I might," Tony admitted.
"I can't get into your head or make the nightmares stop," Steve told him, "but I can be there if you wake up."
"Yeah," Tony said with a nod. "Let's try that."
Steve found it nearly unbelievable that Tony Stark was climbing into his bed, actually sharing it with him. "I'll be right here," he promised again.
And yet there was an elephant in the room, so to speak; a question on both their minds. Tony voiced it: "So…you and me, in a bed and all. Did you want to take it any further, or…?"
"Call me old fashioned," Steve began.
"That's an understatement."
"But I'd rather wait. Believe me, I would LOVE to…to be more intimate with you."
"You can say the word 'sex,' you know."
"We only just got these feelings out in the open," Steve said, "and…I just feel like we should wait. Someday, we will. But not tonight."
"That's probably best anyway," Tony admitted.
"That's…a little surprising to hear from you," Steve said. "I mean, I know how fast you tend to move – "
"With women I have Pepper throw out the next morning. I don't particularly want you gone tomorrow morning. Trust me, we'll get there if you want it. Besides, it's something like one in the morning." Tony illustrated his point by settling on the mattress, beneath the blanket, body tilted slightly toward the center of the bed, and closing his eyes. "Night, Steve."
Steve settled in next to him. "Goodnight," he said softly, leaning over to kiss Tony gently on the forehead. He then lay down across his own side of the bed, eyes drawn momentarily to the reactor embedded in Tony's heart and the soft glow it emitted. He wondered if it would keep him awake, but its light actually comforted him, made him feel slightly drowsier, and his eyelids fell shut.
They drifted into sleep together, close enough to just feel each other's presence at the edges, reminded that they were there for each other up until the exact moment of loss of consciousness.
NEBULAPOLIS, RAGNANIVAL, ASGARD
When the sun had set and the stars came out over the city, Pinkie Pie found her way back to her quarters of the palace. She remembered every detail of the complex path she'd taken out of the palace and through the city streets, and so meandered back through the route until she got to her point of origin.
Before she could change into the fine nightgown that had been provided for her, she was aware of another presence in her room. "I trust you have enjoyed your day out," Loki said. He was still in the guise of Odin.
"SHHHH!" Pinkie hissed, rushing to slam the door to her room. "Okay! You can be yourself now!"
The vision shimmered; it was Loki standing before her for sure and not Odin. "Is everything comfortable enough for you?" he asked.
"Everything is WONDERFUL!" Pinkie gushed. "This is one of the most beautiful cities I've ever seen! And everyone's so nice, except for some of them look at me funny, but I figure it's their loss if they don't know how to have a good time. And everything sorta sparkles in the sunlight, which means it looks even BETTER when it sets, and it's almost PERFECT!" Her smile suddenly downturned. "Well…almost."
"What's wrong?" Loki asked her, concern sweeping over his face.
"My friends," Pinkie said mournfully. "I really wish I could share this with them. And I'm worried that they miss me!"
"I am doing all I can to contact them," Loki told her. "I haven't found a way yet, but I will. You will see them soon. I swear it." He reached forward, taking her hand; then he followed suit with the opposite arm, bringing both her hands upward between the two of them, pressing them together, his hands encircling them. "You truly have no idea what you meant to me, do you?"
"We were friends," Pinkie said, "right?" She immensely enjoyed the way his hands covered hers. It made her feel warm. Her heart thudded.
"You always made me feel like so much more than I am." He fixed his eyes upon hers. She held back a comment about just how green they were. "Even now. Your smile still makes me feel that happiness. The happiness I remember from those days before…well. I shan't bore you with the details. You've heard them already, after all."
"I'm so happy that I can make you happy!" Pinkie squealed in earnest. "I just really hate seeing you sad, because it makes ME sad! I JUST LIKE YOU SO MUCH!"
"It pleases me to hear that," Loki replied. "I daresay…I'm somewhat enamored with you, Pinkie Pie."
She gasped deeply. "REALLY?"
"Truly." He gave her a smile. Not a smirk: a smile. "I had missed this."
"I can hardly believe it!" Pinkie squealed. "This is the best thing EVER!"
"Might I trouble you for a kiss?" Loki asked.
Pinkie Pie nearly fainted. Instead of doing that, she screamed, incredibly loudly, "OF COURSE YOU CAN!"
She had to keep her feet planted firmly on the ground to stop from dancing in place as he leaned in and downward so that his mouth could meet hers. When his lips touched hers, it was as though a barrage of fireworks had been lit behind her eyes and beneath her heart. His kiss was soft and gentle; he drew his head back, breaking contact, and she could no longer contain herself. She flung her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. He laughed, embracing her lightly.
"There's the Pinkie Pie I remember," he said. "I hate to have to say this, but it is getting quite late. You need your sleep, after all."
"Thank you soooooo much for bringing me here!" Pinkie gushed as she let go of Loki. "THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER!"
"The pleasure is mine," Loki told her, resuming the glamour of Odin. "Sweet dreams, my darling."
"G'night!" she replied. "Don't let the bedbugs bite!"
"I assure you, I shall not," he said, turning and exiting the room, closing the door behind him.
He'd won her.
Pinkie Pie leapt onto the bed backward, landing on her back, squirming and kicking out of pure glee and squealing with joy. She knew it would be hard getting to sleep that night, but when she finally did, her dreams would be filled with the grand memory of that kiss.
NEW YORK CITY, 616TH EARTH
The scenes played out across the multiple screens. The various kisses: Jane and Thor, Steve and Tony, Montana and Beck, Flint and Electro, Loki and Doom, Loki and Pinkie Pie. The others, as well – the exchanged flirtations, the dreams of the separated.
Discord didn't have to be asked to pass the box of tissues to Impossible Man, who grabbed a handful of ten and dabbed at the tears building in his eyes. "It's just so romantic!" he gushed.
"Even I'm touched," Discord admitted. "Though this business with Pinkie Pie can't end happily at all. Oh well. The grand reveal should be all the more fun."
Impossible Man searched the screens. All showed their subjects tucked into bed, sleeping. "Is that it? Is that a wrap?"
"I do believe it is!" Discord cried happily. "And you know what THAT means!"
He snapped his fingers, and the couch upon which he and Impossible Man sat levitated off the ground. Another snap, and it was gone.
NEBULAPOLIS, RAGNANIVAL, ASGARD
The couch rematerialized over the Ragnanival capital; Discord resumed the appearance of the draconequus. "It's time for the real show to begin," he announced.
"Best seats in the house!" Impossible Man added.
"For one day only, the live performance!" Discord gushed. With a wave of his hand, a bucket of popcorn appeared. "Popcorn?"
"Don't mind if I do!" Impossible Man scooped a large handful of the salty snack.
From their vantage point high above, the pair waited. The stage was set. The players would arrive soon. And the final act would play out.
Chapter 74
· This is the SHIPPING CHAPTER. I had a lot of kiss scenes I wanted to do, so I decided to just put them all into one and link them up. I tried to cover every couple that was even hinted at.
· Pinkie's song about Asgard is based on the one she sings about the Gala in the ep "Ticket Master."
· I decided to go with Doom's face having only a small scar instead of full burns on the advice of GAvillain. It speaks more to his desire for perfection.
· Yes, Loki and Doom actually did have sex. Sex scenes are the one thing I just can NOT write and have look good. It always comes out weird. So it's just going to have to be left to your imagination.
· I finally broke up Hank/Jan, and I'm a little proud of that. I did want them to remain valuable to each other, though, since friendship is still magic. I wanted to have them part on a happy note. And Hank is beginning to figure himself out…
· Yeah, I just went full SSM with the Six's names and origins here. It's just what I'm familiar with.
· No, you don't get to know what Beck was working on until after the Siege.
· The Electro/Flint bit was one I'd planned out for quite a while and one of my favorite scenes to write. You can see my headcanons for them dripping off the page... Also, "Sparks" is a canon nickname that Sandman has referred to Electro by in a throwaway line of SSM. (Which is going to make a hilarious contrast to…someone I'm introducing much later in the story.)
· Emma's trolling of Crouch with an illusion is based on a scene from X-Men: First Class in which she distracts a random nameless mook that way. I thought this would be the perfect time to have her use that against somebody. I don't wanna kill that ship completely, though.
· I decided against having Steve and Tony jump directly into sex because I felt that would have been moving WAY too fast (well, for Steve, anyway) after the night they finally spit out their confession.
· Yes, Loki is completely playing Pinkie Pie like a piano. His affections for Doom are genuine; his "affections" for her are not. He has reasons for building her attachment to him to that level…
· With the goodnight kisses out of the way, we only have one more chapter of prep before the great battle begins.