Lauren Grimms has been staying with the Avengers (Steve and James specifically) for a week. It's been a week, and she still hasn't met any of the other Avengers. Which was curious at least. She thought of asking Friday about the other residents of the Tower. but she thought it might be a bit intrusive. She felt torn. On one hand, she wanted to get it all over with and finally have the reassurance she needed. On the other, she was thankful that she was meeting them individually. They'd be a hell of a lot more intimidating together. Nonetheless, it was grating on her.
With a sigh, she left the comfort of her bed.
Outside, she could see that it was a fine day out. Despite that, she felt a chill pass through her. Having a fair amount of experience with the supernatural. (Aliens and super-soldiers included.) The chill caused her to fill with dread.
There were only two people in Lauren Grimms' life that caused such feelings. One she could work with, the other…
Let's put it this way, if she had to choose between meeting all the Avengers, while in what she preferred as lounge clothes, or being confronted by the 2nd person; she'd go with the former.
So she really hoped that the one who called was the 1st one.
And just when she thought that she was probably imagining the chill, her phone rang – almost deafeningly so.
"Fuck." As much as she wanted to avoid it, she really couldn't. Avoiding the call would just make it worse. So without checking the caller ID, she answered.
Lauren Virginia Grimms! Just when were you gunna tell me you were fired?! Seriously, we don't talk for a few weeks and this?!
The distinct New Orleans accent gave the caller away. Lauren let out a sigh she didn't even realize she was holding in.
D'ya even think of callin'? And where the fuck have you been stayin' all dis time? Ya need me to get ya? Oh, just wait 'till Iris hears about dis.
The last statement drew a groan. She doesn't need two frantic calls in one day, thank you very much. She wanted to answer the barrage of questions. She knew she had to wait for her friend to finish before she could though.
An' don't ya wait for me to tell her, better tell 'er yerself. Ya know how she is. Now text me if you need me. Can't keep chattin'. Dun' forget to tell Iris too ya hear me? Bye! Text me.
"Greez..!" was all Lauren could say before the call ended.
"Why do I even bother..." She sighed staring at her phone. Of all the things, this was the one she really shouldn't have forgotten. She knew she should've told her friends what happened. But as mentioned, they were on the other side of the world. She didn't want them to do anything about it – as much as she knew that they could. The offer of staying with the Avengers took precedence. It ensured that she wasn't homeless, sue her.
With a heavy sigh, she composed her message that answered all the questions she could remember. She made sure to emphasize that she was fine and that they definitely didn't need to do anything. She considered telling them that she was staying with the Avengers but set that aside for later. It was time to cook breakfast.
Her thoughts stayed on her two friends. What kind of trouble could they be up to now? Hopefully, something time consuming and important. So they wouldn't be on their way to her. Her friends weren't mothering like she had the tendency to be. But they were the types to help you at the drop of a hat – no questions asked. They'd be sitting in jail with you if you ever found yourself in one.
She missed them a lot. They've kept in contact since the end of the exchange program a few years ago, meeting occasionally every few years. They were good friends.
Her reminiscing distracted her enough that her hand, that was holding a sharp serrated knife, slipped. What was she doing? She was trying to shave off the cheese she forgot to transfer to the chiller from the freezer last night. Her impatience and forgetfulness resulted in a deep cut on her forefinger.
She tried to stop the bleeding by holding a towel on the wound as she raised it above her head. Running water on the wound was a bad idea. She could feel the wound throb, not to mention she was starting to feel cold.
She had no idea where the first aid kit was. She didn't like the idea of walking to the building's infirmary. She wasn't losing a significant amount of blood, but the chill made her cautious. She didn't even know if there was an infirmary in the building. Her only option was to ask for help.
"Steve? James? You guys there?" She chanced, hoping they decided to skip their morning exercise. She waited.
A full minute later, she heard no reply. With a sigh, she resigned to going to the infirmary
"Friday? I cut myself pretty deep. Can you tell me where the infirmary is?"
"Miss Grimms, I've already called for the Doctor."
With that, she sat down to the closest chair. She forced herself to breathe deeply as she tightened her hold around the bleeding finger. It continued to pulse against her hand. Lulling her into a daze. She absently wondered if the doctor that was arriving was part of the team or was a hired-medical staff. But her mind quickly wandered back to the thoughts that caused her predicament.
She wasn't sure how long she waited. But she was caught unaware by a soft tap on her shoulder. If it wasn't for the definite presence of another person in the room, she would've thought that she was imagined it.
She was greeted by brown eyes matched with salt and pepper hair. The owner of said features took a large step back when she startled. Something told her it was more than just a reaction to her jump. He wasn't cautious about greeting a stranger. It was more like he was used to treating himself as the most dangerous thing in the room. Which was odd because his appearance was anything but.
"Doctor," Lauren mouthed unsure. But there really was only one person in the building that would act like so. Which meant that this was: "Banner, right? Doctor Bruce Banner?"
There was a shine of relief, that was immediately overtaken by curiosity. It was enough to tell that her guess was right.
"I was told that you needed assistance?" He started, his eyes darting to her injury. He set his med-kit on the counter, seeing the amount of blood on the towel. He quickly set to work.
"How bad is it?" Lauren asked, slowly, starting to feel lightheaded.
"It's not too bad. It didn't reach the bone, but still quite deep for a knife cut. Not the worse. Though, we'll have to bandage that pretty tightly. It'll deform the shape of your finger a bit when it heals, but it won't be noticeable." He explained as he cleaned her wound methodically. His touch almost feather-like, as if any more force would break her.
"I'm made of tougher stuff than glass you know." Lauren blurted. She wasn't annoyed, at least, she was trying not to sound annoyed. She was aiming for reassuring and probably failed.
Or not? Whatever it was that her statement accomplished made the doctor pause from his task, and owlishly blink at her. He tried to reply but only ended up stuttering.
She couldn't help but grin. She managed to baffle one of the smartest minds in the world, fun.
She took pity and decided to explain herself.
"I'm not scared of the Big Guy you know. If that's what's got you all cautious. Besides, if Steve trusts you then I do too."
Though he restarted his ministrations, he was thoughtful. Indicated by the slower pace of his care.
"I was wondering which of the two you were…" he paused to think of the appropriate term, unsure what to call her, "associated with. We aren't exactly the type to have civilians as friends." He half-stated, half-questioned. Though the implication was stark.
Two men out of time, an assassin, a spy, an alien with superpowers, an introverted genius, and a paranoid genius (philanthropist, playboy, billionaire) and then some. They really weren't the type of people you'd see making friends with civilians. She wasn't exactly a civilian though. 'Oh, if only they knew.'
"What did Clint tell you exactly?" She wondered, Natasha, she knew, was told everything. So why was he told less?
"The others tend to walk on eggshells with me. The only ones that don't are Tony, Nat, Cap, and Bucky." He answered her unvoiced question.
She wasn't voicing her thoughts out loud was she?
"Clint told me: 'The two supers have a guest over, her boss was an asshole'. I just took his word for it. I'm curious about why your boss - ex-boss – was an asshole though."
He was already finished tending to her wound by the time she finished explaining.
"Wow, so he is an asshole… There's something else though," He hesitated. A silence settled between them.
She waited. Bruce was definitely the odd one out in the team, she observed. From what she's heard, everyone else would have an overwhelming and intimidating presence. He did too, but that was mostly because of the other guy. Bruce Banner himself felt comfortable, the type of person you'd be okay to share a table with – if that made sense.
"How come you aren't scared?" He asked softly.
She wasn't sure if she heard it right, the tone that is. It was like he was scared, or was it relief? Maybe, she tried not to read into things like this. But she replied anyway, without really thinking about it.
"I don't really see the point I guess? I mean, I know the other guy's more dangerous than Steve and Bucky, or anyone else in the team for that matter. But I guess, I see him kind of like a weapon. You could say I see you all that way. What makes a weapon dangerous is the wielder. And you, doc, are just a cinnamon roll."
"Cinnamon roll?" He asked, bewildered. It was the first time he's heard the term apparently.
"Yup, soft, fluffy, and oh so nice. Thanks for the assist doc." She replied with a smile.
And just as she finished her thanks. Her phone rang for the second time that day. It seems that she'll have two frantic calls in a day.
"Puta…" She sighed, stressing the first syllable. Earning a questioning look from Bruce which she ignored.
She thought of not answering. She could afford to. But banished the thought. Doing so would just make the insufferable. The woman had a lot of connections. She stared at the caller ID letting it ring twice before answering.
Lauren Virginia Grimms, what the fuck man? I had to find out from Greez?!
"I texted."
What? There was a pause and something that sounded vaguely like a gunshot could be heard from the background.
'Is she seriously calling me in the middle of something?'
Doesn't matter, Greez just told me. Anyway, listen, I know a guy. Just give me the word.
"No, and don't you go behind my back either. I'll know."
Whatever. I also know a guy, if you need a place.
"I'm good. A friend offered their place. I just need a job."
Alright, I'll put out some feelers for you.
She heard something loud echo through. An explosion? 'Gods, I hope not.'
We'll talk more later, gotta run. And you must tell me about this friend of yours that's letting you crash at their place.
She could practically see the grin that came with the less than innocent implication.
"Sure, if you tell me what kind of troublesome thing you've got yourself into, again." She pushed back.
Guh, fine. She just knew there was an eye-roll. You sound just like him. I'll call you. Bye.
And just like that, it ended. Her friends were whirlwinds. She shook her head in disbelief but smiled fondly. She looked up and found her two roommates back. One, in particular, had a look on his face that meant she was about to be teased.
"So, Virginia huh?" James teased with a smug look on his face.
"Yes, Mister Buchanan." She replied almost maliciously. "Named after my paternal grandma. Much better than yours in my opinion."
James snorted, "Buchanan is better than Grant though. Much more unique."
"Hey!" Steve protested.
"Wait seriously?" She looked to Steve, disbelieving. "I pegged you more as a Christian. Steve Christian Rogers."
Steve smiled, it did sound like a good name. He pouted when his best friend decided to tell Lauren his full name.
"Steven Grant Rogers, actually," James told her with a smirk.
"Steven." She shook her head, amused. It sounded so old-school. Well, he was from the 40s. "I don't suppose that you could top that doc?" She pointed the question to Bruce, bringing him into the conversation.
"Bruce is my middle name, actually." Cue incredulous looks. "Robert Bruce Banner."
"Yeah, Bob wouldn't suit you," Lauren replied her nose scrunching up in distaste. "You don't look like a 'Bob', or 'Bobby' either."
"And you, don't look like a Grant." She added looking at Steve.
"And you don't look like a 'Virgie', or a 'Vivi'." returned James, who was followed by the other two men.
"Or a 'Ginny'."
"Or a 'Nia'."
"But I do look like a Bucky." James finished with a smile that would've broken his face if it was any wider.
She gave the men an exaggerated sigh. She wanted to glare at them for their cheekiness but couldn't stop the laugh that escaped her.
Her laughter was echoed by the three men.
A few more laughs and jokes about everyone's lesser-used names later. They all settled down around the counter, smiles all around.
"So, who was that? The one who called I mean, if you don't mind." Steve inquired, his eyes still shining with mirth.
"That, Captain, was a friend from high school. If you found that entertaining, you would've been tickled silly with the call earlier. Couldn't get even one word in." Lauren answered as she restarted cooking breakfast.
'I pray to any god out there that they didn't hear whatever it was in the background.'
"They sound like fun," James noted. "And you seem to close for high school friends."
"Oh, we are. Close enough to agree to have tattoos together." She replied as she pulled the right sleeve of her shirt up.
It exposed an odd-looking flower. Odd because you couldn't exactly tell what kind it was. It looked like a mix of poinsettia and cherry blossom. It was surrounded by branches that wisped out from the edge of the flower. The branches that circled the flower were stylized to look like deer antlers, which Lauren would fervently deny.
"Your best friends then?" Bruce concluded after she replaced her sleeve.
"Yeah pretty much. Don't tell them that though. Join us for breakfast doc? We have extra." She replied. The tone of her offer indicated that she wasn't going to accept anything but yes.
And just like that, the group of four settled into the kitchen. The three men keeping a conversation going that would let Lauren chime in. She offered some fruit to start and kept the food coming as they talked.
Lauren's background is starting to trickle in. Iris and Greez aren't entirely mine. They belong to my friends. Please do leave a review. Thankies!