Chapter 2

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I DO NOT WANT NOR TAKE THE CREDIT FOR THE AVENGERS!!!

Picture of Saffire ------>>

Saffire POV:

"Looks like Coulson beat us here." I mumble to myself looking down to the large craft floating over the ocean surface. Avem and I had just arrived and we could see Coulson, Steve Rogers, Dr. Bruce Banner, and Natasha Romanova. (A/N: Yes, thats how you spell it. I looked it up. It just sounds like 'Romanoff'). Who I know due to Coulson's memories and info. Even from here, I can see Steve and Bruce stare at Avem and I in amazement. "Go ahead and land, Avem." I say looking at the clear runway that extands all the way down the ship. He obeys, slowly desending till his feet touch the ground.

I slide off quickly moving to his head and pressing it agaisnt mine. "Go home. I can take care of myself here and you know arguing is pointless." I tell through our mind connection. He remove his head giving me a worried and sad look. I try to reassure him with a smile but he's known me for too long to know when my smiles are forced or not. Nevertheless, he nods allowing me to step back as his fire swirls around him, enwrapping him. The feather on my arm glows once against, signaling the activity of my phoenix returning home. As his body starts to dissapear, ash is replaced with the part of the body that once stood. "I'll see you later." I tell him just before his body is completely gone.

I turn around the gathering of people that stood there, wide eyed with complete bewilderment. I smile and take a bow. "And that! Ladies and Gentlemen, is how a phoenix makes his exit!" They begin to clap whistle and cheer making me blush a little with embarressment. "Alright people, thats enough!" Coulson calls over the hollering of the crowd and the gathering quickly disperses. When the mass is gone, the only personnel left are the four that I had seen before. I rub the back of my neck sheepishly. "Sorry, Agent. Forgot my companion had such an intriguing exit." I say making my way to the main four.

"Its alright. Now, should we go with introductions or are you not ok with that yet?" He asks kindly. "I would love in introduction but only if you guys are ok with me not returning the favor." The three strangers give me a confused look. "Sorry, not even SHIELD knows my true identity." I add hoping they would understand. "Thats impossible." The girl with short curly fire red hair and shirt with a black leather jacket says firmly. "Its true." Coulson validates with a little dissapointment. "Yeah, I'm just that good." I joke.

"As long as your fighting for our side, then I'm okay with that." Steve speaks up lifting his hand to introduce. "I wouldnt, if I were you." Coulson advises. Before Steve can react to Coulson's words, I grasp his hand taking in the information thats freely streaming to my mind. Wow, this guy had a hard life. World War 2, losing his best friend, his love, and finding out hes slept in a iceberg for 70 years has to be tough and he's taking it hard.

With all the info downloaded, I smile up at him. "People call me the Mental Flare." I greet. "Steve Rogers; Captain America" He replies. I move down one to Natasha who doesnt bother to give me her hand, listening to Coulson's warning. "Mental Flare." I repeat. "Natasha Romanova." She suppies blankly. "Almost forgot. Coulson, they need you on the bridge. They're starting the face trace." She informs. "Alright, you four play nice." He jokes making his way to the center of the ship.

"Dr. Banner." Steve calls to get the man's attention. "Ah, yeah. they told me you would be coming as well." They both exchange a handshake. "Word is, you can find the cube." Steve explains. Bruce looks around nervously. "Is that the only word about me?" He asks sounding a little scared. "Only, word I care about." Steve replies reassuringly. "This must be strange to you. Seeing all this." Bruce motions to the high tech jets placed along the runway. "Actually, this is kinda familiar." I cant help but give him a sympathetic look at that statement. It had to have reminded him of the training camps he once lived at.

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