"So it's basically a just a massive waste of electricity?"
Peter looks at me as if I've just slapped his Aunt and called her a Bitch.
"What, No!"
I huff, craning my neck to look around and the thousands of vibrant screens decorating the square around me. Everywhere you look, some form of bright billboard displays increasingly wacky adverts in the hopes of convincing people to buy a product they really don't need. In reality, it's a stage show designed to capture interest long enough for companies to reach into the people of America's pockets and steal the money right out.
Ah, New York - where capitalism and consumerism walk hand in hand.
At least it's pretty.
"There's more screens here than I can count - do you really think this is an effective advertising technique when people are more interested in the aesthetic of the whole thing?" I ask Peter pointedly, raising an eyebrow as I watch the kid glance around him.
"Seriously? That's just..." He trails off as he considers my point, the air of indignation slowly dissipating. I watch as he takes in the crowds of people milling around Times Square, taking photos excitedly. Finally, his features settle into a defeated scowl and he makes a face at me. "Just shut up and enjoy the view."
I try to stifle my laugh but fail, instead letting it ring out around us and get lost in the din of the city. Peter's frown lasts about three seconds before he too dissolves into a chuckle.
Still giggling, I turn to look at the rest of our company as they stare at Times Square. The three of them stand relatively close to us now, unable to drift far in case they lose sight of Peter and I.
Natasha and Bucky still look relatively unimpressed, though not unhappy. I think Bucky's mood has more to do with the hoards of people surrounding us than his lack of interest in the electronic marvel that is Time Square. I don't blame him, I know I've been more on edge since we started to encounter a larger volume of humans - it's so much easier to hide in a sea of unfamiliar faces and so much harder to pick up on ill intentions.
But the person who surprises me most is Steve. Instead of his usual cheerful expression, there is a deep sadness in the crease of his brow, his shoulders slightly slumped and his figure rigid. He stands with his back to the rest of us, arms folded as he stares around at the visual assault of colours.
I'm not the only one who has noticed Steve's dip in mood. Both Natasha and Bucky watch on with knowing looks, their own faces betraying a subtle worry and sympathy.
The urge to comfort the super soldier nags at the back of my mind but I suppress it - I have no idea what to say to him. So instead I move to stand by Nat as Bucky walks to his friend.
"What's wrong with him?" I ask as quietly as I can without my words being lost to the city.
Natasha's eyes don't leave the pair of super soldiers. We watch, silent for a moment, as Bucky gently claps Steve on the shoulder. The blonde turns to look at him with concealed melancholy, forcing a smile when he meets his friend's eyes.
"When he first woke up from the ice he ran into the middle of all this." The red head whispers finally, glancing around her. "One minute he's fighting in World War 2, the next he's waking up almost seventy years later, realising everyone he knows is gone."
Something shifts in the green of her gaze as she references Steve's old life, specifically his friends. It's gone too soon to identify and her eyes are guarded once more, looking away from me to watch the two soldiers walking back to us, their expressions more cheerful than they had been.
My eyes find Bucky's for a small second before I turn to Peter, wanting to move on from here and lighten everybody's spirits.
"Where next Spider boy?"
The kid glares at me, folding his arms.
"It's Spider man."
"Debatable."
He shoots me a dirty look as I break into a teasing grin, trying not to laugh at his expression. The kid shakes his head at me, narrowing his eyes before turning to address the whole group.
"Anyone hungry?"
*****
After much arguing and debating, we end up settling on getting a hot chocolate in Central Park. It makes sense not to waste too much time on sitting in a restaurant when I only have a day to see New York, especially as most places will do takeaway that can be enjoyed from the comfort of the Avengers tower.
And I really like Central Park.
It only takes about ten minutes of walking before the great green expanse of grass comes into view. Soon enough we're through the gates and following one of the many tarmac paths that snakes through the park, following Peter as he leads us to his favourite food shack.
In order to attract as little attention as possible, we leave Steve, Nat and Bucky to talk about twenty metres away while Peter and I go to buy the drinks. Though we're not exactly trying to hide the fact that some of the Avengers are hanging around New York, we're not trying to announce it to the world either.
I rub my hands together in a feverish movement, trying to warm them up as Peter fidgets next to me, feeling the cold also. The queue is made up of three people and us yet seems to move impossibly slowly, effectively exposing us to the freezing October air for much longer than is comfortable.
Sighing, I shove my hands in my pockets and turn to say something to the kid when a brash voice sounds from behind us.
"Well well, s'up Penis Parker."
Peter freezes at the name, his face screwing up as he closes his eyes tightly in frustration. When he opens them, a scrawny looking guy with slicked back black hair stands in front of him, chin raised with an air of unjustified importance.
"What do you want Flash?" The kid sighs, a deep resignation in his voice.
I don't like him already.
The guy, Flash, shrugs nonchalantly, but there's a malicious glint in his brown eyes. He doesn't even spare me a glance, focused solely on Peter.
"Nothing really, just wondering why you're here and not curled up in one of those dumpsters you like to dive in."
He says it so casually, yet I can feel the anger rolling off Peter in waves, mingling with my own as deliciously violent daydreams suddenly cloud my mind. I don't usually like hurting people, but exceptions can be made.
I want nothing more than for Peter to stand up to this guy, but instead he takes a deep breath and lets it out through his nose, calming himself. Something tells me this is a regular occurrence.
"Go away Flash, I'm not in the mood."
Even I have to applaud Peter's restraint.
Flash frowns for a second, unsatisfied with the reaction he's been given. But his face changes as his gaze settles first on the cup of coffee in his gloved hand, and then on the kid, who is trying desperately to arrange his features into neutrality.
My whole body is on edge now, but I force myself not to get involved. Instead I watch as the bully sneers at Peter once more.
"That's rather rude of you Parker, but if you insist..."
But he doesn't walk away.
Instead he bumps right into Peter's shoulder as he pretends to move, making the him stumble a few steps backwards. The impact sloshes scalding coffee from Flash's cup, hitting the kid's jeans and shoes and soaking them immediately.
Peter lets out a surprised hiss as he jumps from foot to foot, the liquid soaking through his clothes and burning his skin.
Screw it.
Instinctively, I step forwards in front of the kid. Flash looks taken aback as he meets my blazing amber gaze, as if noticing me for the very first time. Stifling a growl, I curl my hand into a fist, ready to deliver a hit the guy won't be forgetting any time soon.
But before I can, a hand grabs my arm.
I spin around, gaze murderous, though the anger dissipates when I see the look on Peter's face. His wide brown eyes beg me silently not to cause a scene and I sigh, clenching my jaw and stepping back to stand beside him.
The sound of Flash's voice snaps my attention back to him.
"Well hello there. And what is a gorgeous lady such as yourself doing with street trash like Penis Parker?"
The boy's eyes don't leave mine now, solely focused on me and not his previous victim. At least he's not directly insulting Peter anymore.
I look him up and down once, curling my lip in distain as I stare wordlessly back. His tone is so full of grease I want to shiver, but I don't, instead folding my arms and forcing myself to look bored.
Flash doesn't take the hint. He takes a step forwards, a sleazy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. As much as I want to be far away from this kid, I stay exactly where I am, refusing to back down. He's close enough that I can smell his overpriced aftershave, the acrid pang assaulting my nose.
"I could show you a much better time than he could." He grins in what I presume he thinks is a seductive way. In reality he looks as if he has a nervous twitch.
Gritting my teeth, I shoot him an icy glare, still remaining mute. He steps even closer now and the urge to kick him in the balls is almost all consuming. Instead, I glance behind me to the three Avengers stood a small distance away in the hopes that they'll intervene.
Not for my sake but for the boy's; I have a tendency to get violent.
All three pairs of eyes are set on me, but no one moves to help, either not completely aware of the situation or reluctant to draw too much attention to themselves.
I guess I'm on my own.
"I bet Parker doesn't have the first clue what to do with an ass that nice."
And then a hand touches my butt.
In less than a second I've got Flash's wrist caught in a vice like grip, using it to twist his whole arm up and behind his body. With no other choice but to move in the direction I want him to or risk a broken arm, the boy hits the side of the food shack with a dull thud.
My hand is at his throat before he can even think to breathe.
"Don't ever touch someone without their consent."
The words are spit from my mouth like acid, the palm at his neck squeezing ever so slightly harder for emphasis.
The boy lets out a low whimper that trails off into a wheeze, eyes wide and face petrified as he claws at my hand. A malicious smile finds my lips, not unlike his only a few minutes ago as I lean forwards until our noses are almost touching.
"P-please I..."
I shush him with a finger pressed forcefully across his lips, my gaze turning murderous. Tilting my head to the side, I use my thumb to tilt his face first one way and then the other, putting on an act of inspecting him.
It works; He trembles under my touch.
I have to fight the grin that threatens to surface on my lips, forcing myself to stay stoic as the boy struggles to breathe under my hand. He doesn't look so cocky now.
"Now, I think you owe someone an apology." I whisper, my voice laced with velvet poison.
Flash nods vigorously, still fighting for breath. I'm not holding his throat tight enough for him to pass out, only for him to have to work at breathing.
"I'm s-sorry." He manages, his voice a strangled gasp.
I let out a light laugh, though the hand at his neck tightens a touch more.
"Not to me." I sigh, shaking my head in condescension. "My friend over there."
We both turn to look at Peter, who stands in shellshocked disbelief as he takes in what is happening. His emotions battle on his face, his features unsure whether to smile or look appalled. Either way, he doesn't interfere.
"Well?" I ask, attention back on Flash.
"I'm sorry." He repeats, swallowing against my palm. The artery in his neck beats frantically against my fingers, only increasing my enjoyment.
"His name. Use his name."
Flash looks at me then, eyes somewhere between scared and infuriated. For a moment I think he's going to refuse, but then the hardness in his pupils crumbles, giving in to fear.
"I'm... sorry Peter... Parker"
His voice is both laborious and reluctant, having to pause mid sentence in order to suck in enough oxygen to function. His gaze finds mine again, begging to be released from the choke hold of my hand.
I study him for one more long second, burning my venomous stare into his. And then finally, I let go.
Flash collapses on his knees, taking exaggerated breaths as his lungs fight to fill with as much air as possible. The burgundy of his cheeks starts to fade back to its usual brown as his chest heaves. I'm sure I see a tear slip from one eye.
Peter stares at me, mouth open in disbelief. Shrugging, I shoot him a grin.
That felt good.
Manipulating my voice into a sickly sweet tone, I spare the still panting Flash one more look.
"Have a lovely day." I call to him, before stepping around his slumped body to approach the hatch of the food shack. The owner looks shaken as he regards me with wide eyes, fear shining in his pupils.
"Two hot chocolates and three coffees please." I ask, for once totally unbothered by the many people staring at me.
I think the server breaks a world record for the time, or lack of, that he takes to make our drinks. Almost immediately, he thrusts a tray of cups at me, forcing a smile as I hand him the money.
His hand trembles as he takes it.
Turning around, I nudge Peter, who is still frozen shock. He recovers quickly, offering to carry the tray as we walk the short distance back to the rest of the group.
We move in silence for a good ten steps, before the kid turns to me.
"That was awesome."
I grin back.