Fic: Seeds of Yggdrasil, Ch.3
Title: Seeds of Yggdrasil
Summary: It was suppose to be an easy job. The Losers' first mistake was believing that it would stay that way. It might also prove to be their last unless they manage to survive a pissing contest between S.H.I.E.L.D., the Avengers, and a god with a grudge. Or as Jensen likes to call it, "Tuesday morning."
Rating: pg-13
Warnings: Peeps be creepin'.
Author's Notes: I promise I'll stop saying this once we hit chapter five, but for the love of all things holy and continuity, read Like the Tree before starting this.
Disclaimer: Female!Roque is mine, but everyone else belongs to Vertigo and Marvel (and is guarded by their deathless legion of lawyers. And dragons. Dragon lawyers).
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
"...Please tell me that you're not watching them sleep."
JARVIS ceased debating whether or not this was indulging simple curiosity or a gross violation of privacy then put himself on standby.
"Pepper. Pepper. They have their own Steve! And have you seen them? I'm about a half a second away from cloning all them because I want my own set."
Tony pauses.
"For science," he clarifies. "Yes. Science..."
Unfortunately for Pepper, that statement was said in the same tone that she boss says "I've booked seven Swedish gymnasts wearing nothing but various flavors of edible body paint for a private party."
Paint got on the ceiling.
The ceiling.
Pepper would say that she's not paid enough to deal with this, but she is.
Still.
The ceiling.
"Can't you just get a puppy?"
She can at least attempt to prolong the inevitable...
Tony scoffs as he keeps his eyes glued to the viewing screen at his fingertips. "It would be morally, ethically, socially, and spiritually wrong to involve a puppy in the activities that I'm planning, Ms. Potts."
She just shakes her head then leaves him to his creeping.
"Besides," Tony murmurs to himself, "they're more like a pack of wolves, anyway."
He had the distinct pleasure of meeting Lieutenant Colonel Franklin Clay and the man not only knew how to wear a suit until it cried, but also managed to both piss off and amuse Nick Fury in the span of five seconds.
Tony never knew that "sir" could mean "If any of my people are hurt, I will salt and burn the ground that you tread on," but you learn something new everyday, right?
And if that tall, dark, absolutely stunning, sharp eyed woman that he was dancing with was indeed Captain Willow "Do not call me Willow or I will cut you" Roque, Tony couldn't wait to see the rest of the Losers.
With a name like that, he was beyond eager to meet them.
However, due to Loki's unexpected appearance, that had to be postponed.
For now, Tony was content to watch all four of them sleep.
For science.
Wait, four?
Weren't there...
Ah, hell.
Tony slowly leans back in his seat. "In what manner should I address you so I won't have a knife sticking out of my sternum?"
(He lets out an internal sigh of relief when he's awarded a short laugh.)
"Aisha is fine," she says around the shrimp cocktail in her mouth. "Were you curious or do you just get off on watching people sleep," she suddenly asked. "Know that your answer will greatly effect the course of this conversation," she adds with a deceptively genial smile.
A person in an over-sized pink tee energetically proclaiming "Go... Petunias!" should not be this intimidating.
The penknife she's using to eat shrimp kind of helps, though.
Tony stands with much more dignity than a man caught watching people sleep should have then shuts down, well, everything. "I plead the 5th and good night, Aisha," he politely says.
JARVIS chooses this moment to let out an indelicate sniff.
Tony hopes that he can still trust his AI enough to tell him if Aisha is going to try to cut off his ear as he makes a hasty exit to the master bedroom.
Then locks the door behind him.
And makes sure that it's locked.
Twice.
Aisha looks pleased with herself as she finishes her shrimp cocktail and JARVIS resumes his silence until he's surprisingly addressed.
"Good night."
If JARVIS had a face, a delighted smile would currently be present. "Good night to you as well, Ms. al-Fadhil."
Aisha tips her head slightly in acknowledgment.
In her line of work, the term "work" being used as loosely as possible, she's seen stranger things than a talking house.
She returns to her room and sleep finds her easily.
For others, not so much.
Jensen has been awake for the last three hours.
He's sprawled on top of Cougar in his boxers ("...Tinkerbell? This is Buttercup is she gets shit done, Cougs.") like some kind of octopus death blanket.
Cougar doesn't mind because between Jensen and his sweatpants, he's guaranteed to not wake up in the middle of the night shivering.
When the sun sets in the desert, it takes the heat with it.
He keeps his eyes closed as he slowly begins to drag his fingers through Jensen's hair.
The other man had relaxed some, but not enough.
This prompts Cougar to trail his fingers down Jensen's neck and start massaging his shoulders.
Jensen pauses then finally sags into him. "You are an awful, awful man..."
Cougar snorts softly then slowly starts working down Jensen's back. "Go to sleep."
"Can't."
"Won't."
Jensen shrugs off Cougar's hands then sits up. "Can't," he mumbles.
"She's fine."
"I know, I know..."
Cougar moves to sit behind Jensen then loosely wraps his arm around his waist as he set his head on Jensen's shoulder. "She's fine," he gently repeats.
She lets herself smile.
She lets herself touch them.
She lets herself be happy.
Cougar doesn't know how to tell Jensen the silent, hurting, angry Roque that left isn't the Roque that returned to them.
"Sleep," he says as he tugs Jensen down to lie beside him.
They're scheduled for breakfast and a briefing in the morning.
Clay wants them sharp and alert if Stark's party was an indication of what they should be expecting.
Jensen closes his eyes then resumes his octopus death blanket status.
Cougar drifts into a blissfully dreamless sleep with a strong, steady heartbeat telling him that he's safe.
Summary: It was suppose to be an easy job. The Losers' first mistake was believing that it would stay that way. It might also prove to be their last unless they manage to survive a pissing contest between S.H.I.E.L.D., the Avengers, and a god with a grudge. Or as Jensen likes to call it, "Tuesday morning."
Rating: pg-13
Warnings: Peeps be creepin'.
Author's Notes: I promise I'll stop saying this once we hit chapter five, but for the love of all things holy and continuity, read Like the Tree before starting this.
Disclaimer: Female!Roque is mine, but everyone else belongs to Vertigo and Marvel (and is guarded by their deathless legion of lawyers. And dragons. Dragon lawyers).
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
"...Please tell me that you're not watching them sleep."
JARVIS ceased debating whether or not this was indulging simple curiosity or a gross violation of privacy then put himself on standby.
"Pepper. Pepper. They have their own Steve! And have you seen them? I'm about a half a second away from cloning all them because I want my own set."
Tony pauses.
"For science," he clarifies. "Yes. Science..."
Unfortunately for Pepper, that statement was said in the same tone that she boss says "I've booked seven Swedish gymnasts wearing nothing but various flavors of edible body paint for a private party."
Paint got on the ceiling.
The ceiling.
Pepper would say that she's not paid enough to deal with this, but she is.
Still.
The ceiling.
"Can't you just get a puppy?"
She can at least attempt to prolong the inevitable...
Tony scoffs as he keeps his eyes glued to the viewing screen at his fingertips. "It would be morally, ethically, socially, and spiritually wrong to involve a puppy in the activities that I'm planning, Ms. Potts."
She just shakes her head then leaves him to his creeping.
"Besides," Tony murmurs to himself, "they're more like a pack of wolves, anyway."
He had the distinct pleasure of meeting Lieutenant Colonel Franklin Clay and the man not only knew how to wear a suit until it cried, but also managed to both piss off and amuse Nick Fury in the span of five seconds.
Tony never knew that "sir" could mean "If any of my people are hurt, I will salt and burn the ground that you tread on," but you learn something new everyday, right?
And if that tall, dark, absolutely stunning, sharp eyed woman that he was dancing with was indeed Captain Willow "Do not call me Willow or I will cut you" Roque, Tony couldn't wait to see the rest of the Losers.
With a name like that, he was beyond eager to meet them.
However, due to Loki's unexpected appearance, that had to be postponed.
For now, Tony was content to watch all four of them sleep.
For science.
Wait, four?
Weren't there...
Ah, hell.
Tony slowly leans back in his seat. "In what manner should I address you so I won't have a knife sticking out of my sternum?"
(He lets out an internal sigh of relief when he's awarded a short laugh.)
"Aisha is fine," she says around the shrimp cocktail in her mouth. "Were you curious or do you just get off on watching people sleep," she suddenly asked. "Know that your answer will greatly effect the course of this conversation," she adds with a deceptively genial smile.
A person in an over-sized pink tee energetically proclaiming "Go... Petunias!" should not be this intimidating.
The penknife she's using to eat shrimp kind of helps, though.
Tony stands with much more dignity than a man caught watching people sleep should have then shuts down, well, everything. "I plead the 5th and good night, Aisha," he politely says.
JARVIS chooses this moment to let out an indelicate sniff.
Tony hopes that he can still trust his AI enough to tell him if Aisha is going to try to cut off his ear as he makes a hasty exit to the master bedroom.
Then locks the door behind him.
And makes sure that it's locked.
Twice.
Aisha looks pleased with herself as she finishes her shrimp cocktail and JARVIS resumes his silence until he's surprisingly addressed.
"Good night."
If JARVIS had a face, a delighted smile would currently be present. "Good night to you as well, Ms. al-Fadhil."
Aisha tips her head slightly in acknowledgment.
In her line of work, the term "work" being used as loosely as possible, she's seen stranger things than a talking house.
She returns to her room and sleep finds her easily.
For others, not so much.
Jensen has been awake for the last three hours.
He's sprawled on top of Cougar in his boxers ("...Tinkerbell? This is Buttercup is she gets shit done, Cougs.") like some kind of octopus death blanket.
Cougar doesn't mind because between Jensen and his sweatpants, he's guaranteed to not wake up in the middle of the night shivering.
When the sun sets in the desert, it takes the heat with it.
He keeps his eyes closed as he slowly begins to drag his fingers through Jensen's hair.
The other man had relaxed some, but not enough.
This prompts Cougar to trail his fingers down Jensen's neck and start massaging his shoulders.
Jensen pauses then finally sags into him. "You are an awful, awful man..."
Cougar snorts softly then slowly starts working down Jensen's back. "Go to sleep."
"Can't."
"Won't."
Jensen shrugs off Cougar's hands then sits up. "Can't," he mumbles.
"She's fine."
"I know, I know..."
Cougar moves to sit behind Jensen then loosely wraps his arm around his waist as he set his head on Jensen's shoulder. "She's fine," he gently repeats.
She lets herself smile.
She lets herself touch them.
She lets herself be happy.
Cougar doesn't know how to tell Jensen the silent, hurting, angry Roque that left isn't the Roque that returned to them.
"Sleep," he says as he tugs Jensen down to lie beside him.
They're scheduled for breakfast and a briefing in the morning.
Clay wants them sharp and alert if Stark's party was an indication of what they should be expecting.
Jensen closes his eyes then resumes his octopus death blanket status.
Cougar drifts into a blissfully dreamless sleep with a strong, steady heartbeat telling him that he's safe.