My first impression definitely made an impression... but not in the way I expected.
I had followed Coulson's instructions promptly to the detail: park my bike in lot three, walk north down the docks until I reach dock six, present the secret phrase and I would be escorted from there to a quinjet.
It was there the greetings began.
"Miss Stark," came a voice in the dark.
"Yes," I answered with caution.
A figure emerged into the dock light, matching the voice with the face of Agent Coulson. "Glad you could make it."
"Glad to be here."
He gestured me to follow and lead the way down to the edge of the dock. There I spotted a large, black ship hovering over the soft waters. Otherwise known as the Quinjet.
"Is that my ride?" I asked.
"Affirmative."
It was certainly big enough, for SHIELD transportation and technology, but I was not yet impressed.
"By the way," he began just before opening the doors, "I hope you don't mind sharing a ride."
Sharing? "I don't share. With whom?"
It wasn't the question itself that stirred a sense of curiosity, but the way Coulson said it. He seemed a little too happy to pass on this news, which gave me a newfound concern, recalling how shaken he was back at Stark Tower.
But there was no need for an answer. Within seconds of my question, the doors opened to reveal a passenger already on board. Out of instinct I was able to depict a number of features merely from a glance. His height and upper body strength were the first things I took notice of. Although his muscles appeared in a more subtle manner. When he turned a name immediately took to the face.
No wonder Coulson is so excited.
Not only that, but this was my chance at a first impression.
However I was already able to depict a strong sense of judgement.
Coulson shut the doors behind and strolled past me in a suggestive stride of jubilation. "Miss Stark, Steve Rogers," he introduced me. "But you may know him as-"
"Captain America," I interrupted, showing my perception of fascination. "The man of ice himself. It's an honor."
"Ma'am."
Old fashioned, I laughed inwardly.
"Who is she?" Steve asked quickly.
"Jackie Stark, at your service."
I stuck out my hand in greeting, finding his hesitation at first, but eventually his acceptance of my gesture.
Knowing from the start he would have no recollection of my name, other than Stark being a hint of relation to the man of iron. However, I did not expect an expression showing a clear sign of judgement.
Just be nice, I told myself. Show a little respect. First impressions are lasting impressions.
"I suppose you're related to Iron Man?"
"I'm his niece. But I took the name."
"Uh huh." He was about to say more, but retreated last minute back to Coulson. "Why is she here?"
"Miss Stark is here to serve as an advantage to the mission."
His face was shocked, as expected, but with a strong undertone of disgust. "Her?"
Oh no, here it comes.
"But she's just a kid."
Coulson sighed and immediately stepped in to defend me. "This isn't anything we've faced before. We need an even chance-" he paused a moment as his cell phone rang. "I gotta take this."
"Wait, you're putting your trust in a kid?" Steve attempted in asking last minute, but Coulson was already outside.
Barely one minute and he already sees me as a kid.
With this in mind I kept myself cool and my voice firm, but made sure kindness was still in the picture. After all this was my first chance, and there was no harm in reversing his accusation.
"You know, I may be a kid but I'm a lot stronger than I look."
"Yeah, because I feel a lot safer having a sixteen year old on my side."
"I'm eighteen."
"That makes you no less a kid."
"So being a little underage makes me a disadvantage?"
"It makes you a drag on the team."
I was taken aback. "Oh is that what you think?"
"That is exactly what I think. And your size won't be of much help to us either."
Height? Now he was stooping to childish accusations. "Great, now I'm short? Well you're not exactly King Kong yourself."
"What?" he asked, briefly confused.
"And another thing. Your old fashioned tactics aren't going to be much help in the twenty-first century."
"That doesn't change the fact that you're just a kid."
A kid. So that's his lasting impression of me? "You know I walked in here and tried to make a friendly gesture, maybe hoping to receive just the slightest bit of support, and this is how you decided to return it. I suppose I had my hopes a little too high."
"I don't have time to babysit."
Babysit? A few insults I could take, but this hit way below the belt. I could feel my hands threaten to heat as they balled into fists.
He stepped closer so as to appear in an intimidating fashion - not exactly an original idea - towering over my 5'3 height. One thing I hoped he would learn I was not one easily intimidated.
"I've faced a good deal of oppressors. At least I have some experience out in the field."
"Experience or not, none of us have ever faced a magical apprehension. We're all in the same boat."
"This isn't exactly a training session."
"You think I don't know that?" My urge to show him what I was capable of itched at me more than ever. "I'm just here because they asked me to be."
"Tell me, what makes you, a kid, this so called advantage?"
"I was hoping you'd say that." At that point, I was fed up.
I clapped my hands together, shifted my palms against one another, clenched my fists with my left atop the right, separated them and dropped my left. Finally with a flick of my wrist I raised my hand at eye level, just inches from Steve's face and ignited a flame in my palm, which forced him back a few steps. He definitely did not expect that. His eyes were as big as gumballs from this sudden appearance of flame, but he showed no more respect than before.
"Looks can be deceiving," I remarked. "I think we have both learned that today."
Coulson suddenly came in, having finished his phone call. Discovering us in our position had come as a shock to him. He could feel the tension in the room, and the heat radiating from my palm, literally.
"Getting along I see," he said sarcastically.
We stood a moment longer, staring into the depths of each other's eyes. A final flash of flame from my own was enough to break away and extinguish my flame. I rolled my eyes and took a seat in the corner, propped my legs up against the wall, and carried on with the studies of the mission.