News travels.
Sally's internship was done. Finally. Finally. It had really been the most grueling, intense, work/school experience of Sally's career so far. But she'd turned in her proposal, pitched her report to the committee, and now she was done. Sally walked along Fifth Avenue, her final report in her messenger-style bag slung over her shoulder. She grinned. Mr. Dorfman had told her that he would have, honestly, given her the money.
As it happened, the terms of the internship meant that Sally's proposal belonged to Stark Industries now. But she didn't mind. She hadn't given them her best ideas, the ones she really cared about. Those were for when she was older and could make a real difference in the world.
She was surprised, though, to find she didn't mind sharing with S.I. As much as Tony Stark infuriated her, she'd come to find over the summer that Stark Industries nurtured some of the smartest and most passionate people Sally Stetins had ever met. People who cared deeply about the implications of their work, people whose genius was sort of jaw-droppingly cool. It said something, Sally thought, that S.I. worked to foster these people. To keep them, and give them what they needed to create. That it gave them what they needed to make the world a better place.
It was almost enough to make Sally revise her opinion of Tony Stark.
She stopped at the coffee stand near her subway station. Time to head home and get that sleep Blevins was nagging at her about. She opted for a chai frappucino and sipped it as she took the stairs down under the city. Waiting on the platform, Sally sent a text to Julian, and another, triumphant, text to Sally Blevins. She called her mom and left a message -- just a little contact, just letting Toni Stetins know that her daughter was thinking of her. Sally was putting her phone away when the headline news update it buzzed. Sally checked the message with a smile, expecting Julian. No. Reuter's headline update -- "Daily Bugle: Tony Stark Quits SHIELD."
Sally stared at her phone. She slowly threw her empty frappucino cup away, staring. The next message came in. CNN Headline. "Tony Stark Stepping Down." And then the BBC. "Director of SHIELD resigns; Avengers in shock."
A train pulled up to the platform. Sally got on, dazed. She remembered at the last minute to check and make sure it was, in fact, her train. She sat with a thump. "What the hell is he thinking?" Sally muttered. The next text came in. "SHIELD's interim director, Maria Hill, to forge new direction."
"Maria Hill?" Sally sat up. "Maria Hill?!" she exclaimed. She glanced around apologetically, but the other riders were not even looking her way. Sally sat back, fuming. Cassie Lang was in the Initiative. She was also on some of the message boards Sally frequented. While the two girls weren't bff, they were certainly friendly. And Cassie didn't have a lot of good to say about Maria Hill. Power-hungry, came to mind.
"Tony's at least not an insecure, back-and-white, ruthless, power-mad idiot," Sally muttered. "He's at least smart. Who does she think she is, stepping into Tony's shoes?" Sally slouched in her seat, fuming.
Sally's phone buzzed again. She checked it with disgust. The Sun, finally weighing in. "Stark secret out: hidden children!"
"Oh, right," Sally sneered. She settled in for the ride home, certain that nothing stupider could happen today.
As it happened, the terms of the internship meant that Sally's proposal belonged to Stark Industries now. But she didn't mind. She hadn't given them her best ideas, the ones she really cared about. Those were for when she was older and could make a real difference in the world.
She was surprised, though, to find she didn't mind sharing with S.I. As much as Tony Stark infuriated her, she'd come to find over the summer that Stark Industries nurtured some of the smartest and most passionate people Sally Stetins had ever met. People who cared deeply about the implications of their work, people whose genius was sort of jaw-droppingly cool. It said something, Sally thought, that S.I. worked to foster these people. To keep them, and give them what they needed to create. That it gave them what they needed to make the world a better place.
It was almost enough to make Sally revise her opinion of Tony Stark.
She stopped at the coffee stand near her subway station. Time to head home and get that sleep Blevins was nagging at her about. She opted for a chai frappucino and sipped it as she took the stairs down under the city. Waiting on the platform, Sally sent a text to Julian, and another, triumphant, text to Sally Blevins. She called her mom and left a message -- just a little contact, just letting Toni Stetins know that her daughter was thinking of her. Sally was putting her phone away when the headline news update it buzzed. Sally checked the message with a smile, expecting Julian. No. Reuter's headline update -- "Daily Bugle: Tony Stark Quits SHIELD."
Sally stared at her phone. She slowly threw her empty frappucino cup away, staring. The next message came in. CNN Headline. "Tony Stark Stepping Down." And then the BBC. "Director of SHIELD resigns; Avengers in shock."
A train pulled up to the platform. Sally got on, dazed. She remembered at the last minute to check and make sure it was, in fact, her train. She sat with a thump. "What the hell is he thinking?" Sally muttered. The next text came in. "SHIELD's interim director, Maria Hill, to forge new direction."
"Maria Hill?" Sally sat up. "Maria Hill?!" she exclaimed. She glanced around apologetically, but the other riders were not even looking her way. Sally sat back, fuming. Cassie Lang was in the Initiative. She was also on some of the message boards Sally frequented. While the two girls weren't bff, they were certainly friendly. And Cassie didn't have a lot of good to say about Maria Hill. Power-hungry, came to mind.
"Tony's at least not an insecure, back-and-white, ruthless, power-mad idiot," Sally muttered. "He's at least smart. Who does she think she is, stepping into Tony's shoes?" Sally slouched in her seat, fuming.
Sally's phone buzzed again. She checked it with disgust. The Sun, finally weighing in. "Stark secret out: hidden children!"
"Oh, right," Sally sneered. She settled in for the ride home, certain that nothing stupider could happen today.