Playing With Fire (EDITING)

Old Friends

Even from this distance, I could tell her eyes had widened considerably, but she still hadn't moved. I slowed the pace of the group before approaching. "Um, ma'am, we don't mean to interrupt but we're travelers and-"

As soon as I was close enough, she'd come running toward us, lifting her skirts in one hand. I was cut off when she hugged me. Startled, I pulled away quickly. "Excuse me, but-"

"Han Bennett, ya cannot tell me you don' have recollection of me 'n that thick head o' yours," she chided, knocking a fist lightly on my forehead.

When I heard her voice, I laughed and shook my head. "Of course I remember you, Ma Leah. Or at least now I do."

She made a face of dissatisfaction, but her green eyes were sparkling. "You'd better or I'd have to whup you an' your trouble-makin' friends like I used to."

I laughed as the others joined us where we stood. Clint was also crushed in a motherly hug as I began to make the introductions. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Ma Leah." She smiled to everyone and met their eyes in turn as I gestured to each. "You remember Clint of course, Barney's younger brother."

She nodded, grey bun bobbing at the back of her head. "And this is Agent Natasha Romanoff, Kurt Wagner, Douglas Ramsey, Kitty Pryde." Kitty poked Megan as I came down the line toward her and she spun to attention, ponytail flying. "And Megan Gwynn who also goes by Pixie."

"An' why's that?" Ma Leah asked, eyeing Megan's unorthodox pink hair.

Wordlessly, Megan lifted the spell on her wings and let them flutter in the open sunlight. Ma nodded, stunned. "This is Loki Laufeyson, prince of Asgard," I continued.

She turned to look at Loki and made a disbelieving face. "A prince, huh." He glared down at her and she held her hands up. "Fine, fine. But another look like that an' I'll do to ya what I used ta do ta Han and his friends. You won' sit for a week."

I chuckled at Loki's reaction and finished by resting an arm across Lyrica's shoulders. "And Ma, this is Lyrica, Barn and Rose's daughter, Jacques' granddaughter, and my goddaughter."

Ma Leah's lips parted and her face lit up. "Well, aren't you a pretty somethin'." She hugged her tightly before holding her at arms' length and saying, "Now let me take a look at ya." Her eyes scrutinized Lyrica from the top of her fire-red hair to the tips of her worn brown boots. Pursing her lips, Ma Leah tsked her tongue in approval. "Spittin' image of your mum but-"

"With Grandpére's hair and eyes," Lyrica finished, blushing underneath her smattering of freckles.

Ma Leah nodded, motioning with a sweeping arm for us to follow her through the maze of tents. Each time we passed someone she knew well- I was beginning to feel like she knew everyone pretty well-, she had to stop and proudly display Clint, Lyrica, and myself. We were greeted enthusiastically and some of the older folks recognized Clint, though fewer recognized me.

At long last, we arrived at the sprawling, low tent that usually held the kitchens and tables for dining. Just like Ma Leah, I thought. Not one to let travelers go hungry for any length of time.

But I soon realized, we weren't here to be fed.

Ma Leah stopped us outside the dining tent and called over to a group of adults sitting at a table by the fireplace. A pot of dark liquid was boiling over the flame and I could catch the scent of coffee wafting from mugs held in chilled fingers.

At the sound of her voice, the heads lifted and I almost choked. It couldn't be; I was seeing things.

But when a woman rose from the table and cautiously approached us, there was no mistaking her. "Rose?" I said, not entirely believing what I was seeing.