The Unseen Avenger ∘ Marvel

chapter six; baffi finiti

11/27/17 WP note - I hate myself every goddamn day for this chapter. I wrote it three years ago and it still haunts my nightmares. In all honesty, I don't know what to do with this several thousand word vomit. Perhaps it serves as a testament to how much my writing has grown. Either way I don't know how to edit this and I'm frankly scared to. Read at your own risk.

I end up in my room, searching channels on the TV when my phone rings.

"Hello, Sienna Firman speaking."

"Hey, Cinna!"

"Stark, this better be good or you'll be sorry you ever touched an electronically run piece of technology."

"Fine, it's good. Banner said we needed some quality time to 'learn to be friendly'. Ya, I don't get it either, but the translation is; were going out to dinner. Natasha,Rogers,me, Banner, Thor. You in?"

I roll my eyes," I don't have anything better to do."

"Why do I find that sadly true? Be at the docking bay at seven. Oh, wear something nice for a change? Those leather suits may be flattering on the right females, but the get a little dull after awhile."

And with that he hung up. Stuck up billionaires. They'll all the same.

I go over to my closet, going through clothes. A few different jumpsuits, sweats, T-shirts, jeans. I own one dress, a long white maxi. I try to slip it on. Way. To. Small. I can't even breath in it.

For a moment I considered going in a T-shirt and jeans.

Never mind. I would have to resort to asking someone for a dress. I hate asking for things, except for when it came to doing a job.

I sigh, she warned me this day would come.

"Natasha!" I say, knocking on her door five minutes later.

"Come in." I hear from inside. I open the door to see Natasha in a green V-neck lace dress. Her makeup was done and her hair was perfect.

"You look beautiful Nat!"

"I can dress up from time to time. Why aren't you ready?"

She must have read the look on my face.

"Did Sienna Firman come to me asking for something?"

"Natasha-"

"I knew this day would come."

About five minutes later, I'm in a dark purple figure fitting dress with spaghetti starps. It hugs me just about everywhere, and ends mid-thigh. I believe a I look okay in it.

Natasha then took the front parts of my hair, pulling them back and securing them with a Bobbie pin. She handed me her makeup kit and strappy silver shoes," Be at the docking bay in five minutes."

And she's gone. I do a quick and neutral makeup job within three minutes and put on the shoes. I check in the mirror. Again, I look okay. I turn to look at my shoulder. A bronzy color covers it. The SHIELD healing cream really worked.

I run out, passing other agents who just stare, probably wondering how I can run in these shoes. It takes talent. I almost trip over Captain Rogers.

"God, sorry." I say quickly. He was dressed in a simple white T-shirt, blazer, and jeans. I suddenly feel over dressed. But so is Natasha, so I won't be embarrassed alone.

"It's my fault," Rogers answers," I should have looked were I was going."

"We'll just leave at my fault and get to the docking bay before Romanoff bursts her top." I say, then scurry off.

I get to the docking bay sixteen seconds late. Natasha looks like she's gonna serve my severed head on a plate. Stark was wearing a nice suit and tie, Banner in an old blazer and slacks, Thor.........well the suit was a little small.

"I guess we dressed for different events," Banner says meakly. I nod. We all just look at each other for awhile. We look like a bunch of strangers.

"Were did you say we were going?" Natasha asks Stark.

"I didn't, but we were going to Le Cheval de Danse. It's a fancy French joint uptown."

Translation: The Dancing Horse.

"Well we can't really go to a fancy restaurant dressed like this" I say. Everyone but Nat gives me a weird look.

We all stay silent again.

"I know a Italian place downtown. It lets anybody in but the food is great." Natasha pipes. We all nod, then board the quinjet to take us down.

We get in a cab, all of us stuffed in since the billionaire forgot to call the limo. It's a fifteen minute drive, leaving us at a little place called Il Cavallo Ballo, which means dancing horse in Italian. We walk in, a young bushing mustached waiter greeting us.

"Un tavolo per sei per favore, e perde i baffi finti." I say. The man blushes red, and escorts us to a large table. When he leaves, we all look at each other.

"I've never had Italian before." Steve comments.

"Neither have I my friend," Thor says," But I believe the country it originates from is of Europe, near your Mediterranean Sea"

More silence. The waiter comes back, asking for are orders for drinks.

"Solo acqua per favore," I say,"e si guarda molto meglio."

"Non ti è piaciuto con i baffi?" He asks.

"Si occupava metà del tuo bel viso."

"È così? Vuoi saltare questo comune e guardare tutta la notte?"

I glare at him,"Ricevi tutte le idee e ti strappare la gola. "

He backs away, asking everyone else for there order as I smirk. Natasha just smiles at me, then just for the fun of it asks," Didn't you used to have a mustache?"

The man shrinks down, looks at me, and scurries away.

Nat turns to me," Ci non siamo la civetta. "

I pretend to be offended,"Me? Come osano fare queste accuse! "

"Sorry to break up your little discussion, but what just happened?" Stark asks. Me and Nat just look at each other.

"Niente!" We squeal together, then laugh softly under our breath as everyone else looks confused. Stark pulled out his phone," JARVIS, what the heck were they saying!?!"

"The were speaking Italian," the computerized voice answers," Miss Firman asked for a table for six, then told him to get rid of the fake mustache. The waiter then came back, his facial hair removed. He attempted to flirt with her, but she threaten to rip his throat out. I believe Miss Romanoff understood the conversation, then preceded to tease Miss Firman. When you asked about their discussion, they answered by saying nothing."

Silence.

"Ну, есть Джарвис, удобно денди кусок дерьма." I mutter under my breath.

"JARVIS?" Stark asks.

"I'd rather not repeat it, sir, but she was speaking Russian."

"How many languages do you know?" Rogers asks.

"Inglese, francese, italiano, russo, svedese, spagnolo e tedesco. Oh, e arabo." I answer.

He gives me a quizzical look as I just smile," English, French, Italian, Russian, Swedish, Spanish, and Arabic."

"Impressive."

"Natasha can speak even more." I point out. They all look at her.

"What!?" She exclaims.

"And the ladies speak American!" Stark announces. We all stare. The waiter comes back, almost hiding from my gaze. I smirk.

We order food and strike up conversation. Stark and Banner go on talking about science and such things while Natasha and Rogers talk about different battle strategies. I look over at Thor, who takes a sip of wine. He smiles, gobbling the whole glass down. Do Asguardians get drunk?

He holds the glass above his head," ANOTHE-"

I cover his mouth and catch the glass as it falls. I let out a held in breath, then give a reassuring smile.

"On Earth-, I mean Midgard," I say, holding the glass," You wait until the waiter comes back, you comment on the goodness of the drink, then ask in a polite voice for another."

"Oh," he takes the glass," Your customs are very different."

I nod," We don't go rampaging around."

He stares at me," I am truly sorry-"

"No, no. Sorry, but the last time we met you hospitalized me for two months."

Thor faulters," I'm sorry Lady Firman. My judgement was clouded."

"It's okay big guy. This time you only gave me a concussion."

The waiter comes back, offering Lambrusco, Italian wine. I decline it.

"You do not drink Lady Firman?" Thor asks.

Memories rush back. Hot breath. The stench of alcohol. The firm hand.

"No, I don't."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We spent two hours talking and eating, bickering occasionally. We get back to the helicarrier, Natasha and Stark drunk. Bruce volunteers to take his friend back to his room while I get Nat cleaned up.

It takes about twenty minutes to drag her to her quarters. I lay her on the bed as I look for fresh clothes. I search her drawers when I hear crashing. I rush back to find Natasha standing over a shattered lamp.

"Tasha, what are you doing!"

She stares at me," Where is he?!"

I slowly walk up to her, but she throws me back. I struggle to get up, regaining my balance as burning comes from my shoulder. Natasha punches the computer.

"Where is he?!?"

I look at the cracked glass that used to make up a computer screen. Clint's face is present, the statement next to it saying 'Not Found'. Nat hits the wall, tears springing to her eyes.

"Natasha," I say slowly," Calm down."

I've never seen her break down. Ever. She's always been cold, stern, occasionally laughing. I've never seen completely lose it, even when she's drunk. Barton must mean a lot to her.

Natasha attempts to throw me back again, but I catch her fist. Her face is red with anger, her eyes watery. The smell of alcohol surrounds her as she slides down the wall.

" I can't save him." She whispers, her lips trembling as a single tear falls. That's it. She looks at me, breathing hard.

"It's okay," I say," You guys will be working together in no time."

"How do you know!" She yells," How the hell do you know?"

I am taken back by the question. Right now, I can't answer it.

"I'm going to get you clean clothes."

I pick up a T-shirt and sweats and hand them to her. She changes in the bathroom while I clean up the lamp and computer shards.

Where are you Barton?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I got Nat cleaned up and in bed. She started to seem delirious, then went to bed as I went around straightening the room. After a better look at the computer screen, a program had been running for about three hours to no avail. Clint was no where. Nat even hacked secure cameras like Stark Industries, the remnants of Hammer Enterprises, even the President of Russia's country house. Nothing.

I walk back to my room, my fingers a little bloody from cleaning the lamp shards up with my hands. Bad idea all and all.

The pain on my shoulder has become a dull throb now, but I'm pretty sure I need some more healing cream. I went up against a drunk Black Widow. I'll need the cream.

I make a quick decision to get some from the medical wing. I run there as softly as you can in heels, only to find that a lone nurse was still in there. I saunter off to the side, listening to the girl hum a tune. She starts to walk out, and I press myself harder against the wall. A sharp pain comes from my shoulder, and I'm ninety percent sure I feel glass fragments.

I slip in and immediately start searching the cabinets. You wouldn't believe how many creams SHIELD has.

First I pick out the glass pieces out of my skin, then I start applying a cream that's supposed to treat reopened wounds when I hear footsteps. I hunker down as someone enters the room. Though the dark, I make out the silloheute of a man. He heads for the light switch. I have to make my break now. I just need to run out. That's all.

I rush past him, only to be caught by an outstretched hand blocking my path. I must be really lacking on my game if I can't even make it past a person without getting caught. I give a frustrated sigh as I see Coulson flip on the lights.

"Firman, if your going to sneak past someone, you don't run right in front of them."

I scowl," I wasn't sneaking, I was just trying to get out of here."

"Yet you stopped when I put my hand up."

"I knew it was you."

His eyes flick up to my shoulder," What happened to you?"

I go over to the counter, grabbing at the healing cream," The wound reopened during a day out with Natasha and a few friends. I just needed some bandages and cream to fix it up."

Coulson studies me, trying to tell if I'm lying. I roll my eyes. I'm part of SHIELD, I'm a great liar. I place my elbows on the counter.

"You don't need to analyze me. You trust me or flat out don't."

"Sienna, you no nothing works like that around here," Coulson says, shrugging his shoulders," Nobody trusts anybody fully. We just tolerate each other, or were friends. Trust is blurred."

I nod, twisting my neck to watch myself work as I massage the cream in," So you don't trust me?"

"Do you trust me?"

I look back at him," I'm in the grey about you, but closer towards the white. Like a fair amount of people on this carrier."

I stop, biting my lip, but go on," Your a good man Phil, we need more like you."

He gives a sheepish smile,"Thank you. I say the same for you. Except ya know, the men part."

I grin, but inwardly want to shout that he's a liar. I'm a killer," Thanks. 'Night Coulson."