When I'd finally come to consciousness, it was the next morning. I climbed out of bed, clutching my head, and brushed my hair back into a high ponytail, wincing as I found a massive egg-sized lump on my temple. Brushing my entire tub of concealer over it (which did literally nothing), I had a quick, painful shower, got dressed in my mission leathers, brushed my teeth, then headed downstairs to the breakfast bar.
"And... YOU get some toast!"
I only just managed to catch an airborne piece of flying toast directed towards my head. "Hey!" I whipped around angrily to see who threw it, raising my eyebrows at Evie, who was depositing toast around the breakfast bar. "Evie, what're you doing?"
"Making sure you get fed," my sister said brightly, biting into a slice of wholemeal. "Toast is a very nourishing breakfast."
She threw a piece of toast towards the ceiling and I heard a yelp. Looking up, I saw Peter dangling from the roof in his spider suit, a slice of toast in his outstretched hand. The rest of the Avengers were looking at us strangely from where they were all assembled in the corner of the room. Nat walked over to me and gave me a hug, smirking when she saw my attempts to cover up my injury. I glared and pushed her away. "Did you really have to knock me out?" I demanded angrily.
Nat pointed two thumbs at herself and grinned. "Natasha Romanoff."
I nodded sarcastically. "Yeah, yeah. I think that your parenting skills need a bit of work." I paused. "A lot of work."
Nat smiled but I could see the hurt in her eyes. "Well, now your ship name can be called Roman-I-got-hit-in-the-face-by-my-mum." She kissed my cheek and said, "We're leaving in ten minutes."
After a round of hugs with everybody - a particularly bone-crushing one from Bruce - me, Peter, Nat and Steve got beamed up into the sky using help from Thor's Bifrost bridge. We arrived in Ireland, standing in a street outside a large, flashy mall. Snow was gently drifting down in spiralling flakes out of the sky and I shivered in my cold, tight leathers. The sky was wolf grey and cloudy. Once Thor had left, Nat started digging around in a black bag Steve was carrying. She pulled out a blue zip-up hoodie and jeans and threw them to me; a flannel shirt and trousers for Peter. Steve was wearing glasses, a hat, and a T-shirt that read World's Greatest Dad and Nat was wearing a cream-coloured blouse and denim jeans. I went into an alleyway to change and emerged five minutes later dressed in what seemed like the world's daggiest hoodie.
Steve handed me and Peter American passports with photos of us on them, but with completely different names. I was Karen Rushman; Peter was Patrick Rushman. I looked at Steve strangely. "That's your cover," he explained. "If anybody asks - and they will ask - we are a family on a holiday going shopping. Nat's cover is Natalie Rushman and I'm Samuel Rushman." He glanced at Nat and grinned. "Just like the good old days."
Nat smirked. "Don't get full of yourself, Rogers, we were partners hunting a deadly assassin." She stopped smiling and turned back to Peter and I. "We'll have to infiltrate the undercover base through the back of an ice cream shop up on the top level. There will be guards who will most likely spot the resemblance between Holly and you, Kira, and put together the pieces that you're one of the Red Triplets. That's why I didn't want to bring Evie on this mission - they will be looking for two, not one, and definitely not a family of four going shopping, but we can never be too careful." She looked directly at me as she said, "I don't want either of you getting hurt. This is an incredibly dangerous mission and both Steve and I didn't want to bring you two along."
Peter shrugged. "We're stubborn."
I elbowed him. "I like to think of us as determined," I said, grinning. "The word stubborn has such negative implications."
Steve chuckled. "I assume you've been called other things, too?" he asked as we pushed open the door to the mall, warmth hitting us in the face.
I smirked. "I dunno about Pete here, but I have a whole list of names people have called me. Beautiful and amazing are frequent toppers of said list."
"As they should be," said Nat the same time Steve said sarcastically, "Humble, too. Kira's very, very humble."
I smiled at my mother. The mall was large and full of colour - teenage girls squealing in the windows of shoe stores and boys running wild and spreading their BO everywhere. Families moved in tightly-knit packs, huddled together like sardines. I could see men dressed in black on the top floor, scanning the ground with dark sunglasses over their eyes. Nat took my arm and directed me down under an alcove, where Steve and Peter were hanging out with their heads down. "Are those the bad guys?" I asked in a hushed voice.
"They're not the 'bad guys' as you put it," said Steve, "But yes. We're trying to avoid them."
"But they're on the top level," Peter put in. "Next to the ice cream shop. Isn't that where we're supposed to be going?"
"Yeah," Nat nodded. "It'll be quite difficult but I think we can do it. Kira, your hair stands out, so you should put up your hood."
I did. "What about you?" We began to move out into the centre of the mall, to the escalator, me keeping an anxious eye at the men in black at the front of the ice cream shop.
Nat shook her head. "They're not looking for an adult woman."
"They're looking for a scrawny teenager," joked Steve. I elbowed him in the ribs and he ruffled my hair.
I giggled. "Very funny, Cap," I replied sarcastically. "So very, very funny."
"Return of the spunk," Steve muttered, smiling.
We were moving towards the ice cream store when a bemused voice said, "Kira?"
Thinking that, because it was a male voice, it was probably just Steve or Peter, I kept on moving, but apparently it wasn't, because the voice said again, slightly louder, "Oh my god, guys, it's Kira Akiro-Bardasen!"
At the hearing of my old name, I whipped around in shock to see a tall, handsome boy leaning against a pillar, an ice cream cone in hand, with a group of friends surrounding him. His skin was honey-bronze and he had a lot of muscle packed under that tight white sleeveless vest he was wearing. His dark hair was swept to one side and his face was playful and amused, yet, beautiful though it appeared, it was a face I definitely didn't want to see again. "Marco Arrata?" I breathed, my breath coming out in sharp, angry bursts. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Hey, now, Kira," grinned Marco, his teeth pearly white in his tanned face. "No need to get fiesty. I live here - after the situation in Chicago last year I moved to Ireland with my family." He shrugged. "What are you doing here? That's the question."
I folded my arms and glared at him. "The situation, being, leaving me and Hannah at the prom and making out with some senior girl behind a dumpster? That situation?"
Marco chuckled. "I don't know why you were so upset, Kira. Guys do it all the time. You just gotta get use to it."
I couldn't breathe, I was so angry. "Used to it? Used to it? Why the hell would I have to get used to it?"
Marco's friends laughed at the furious expression on my face, cackling together like a pack of hyenas. "You were right, Big M," one of the boys laughed. "She is a hottie."
"Hey!" Peter yelled.
In the heat of my anger, I'd forgotten that Nat, Peter and Steve were standing behind me. My mother walked up beside me and crossed her arms, glaring at the boys. "Say one more thing to Kira and I swear you'll regret it."
"Who's this?" Marco wolf-whistled. "Who're you, sweetcheeks? Kira's sister?"
Nat looked at him squarely in the eye. "I'm her mother, dumbass. Now if you and your gang of assholes don't mind, we're leaving. Come on, маленькая птица, let's go."
For some reason, that only made Marco and his gang laugh even more. "Russian, huh?" one of the boys said. "If I told you, you had a beautiful body, you would hold it against me? Both of you?"
Nat was so angry she looked like she was going to throw somebody of a building, and, if that somebody was Marco and the guy who'd just used the world's worst pickup line on us, I would've helped her. Before I could open my mouth to say something equally rude back, Steve pushed in front of us and faced the boys. "Hey, losers!" He barked. "Don't you EVER talk to my wife and daughter that way, you hear me?" He looked so mad, I could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. When the boys didn't respond, he yelled in their faces, "You hear me?!"
"Yes! Yes, sir!" Marco's gang scrambled away from the pillar, moving away, their eyes wide.
Marco, however, didn't move, instead he just stared at me, Nat, and Steve in wonder. Nat had her arm wrapped around my waist and Steve's hand was clamped down protectively on my shoulder. Peter was glaring at Marco's gang from next to me. Steve repeated the command, his voice low and dangerous. "Never talk to my daughter again," he said softly.
Before Marco turned away to scramble back to his gang, who were watching with wide eyes from about five metres away, I broke out of Steve and Natasha's grips and ran up to him, punching him square in the face. He doubled over, clutching his nose, which was twisted at a weird angle and spurting blood. "That's for Hannah," I smirked.
Feeling smug and proud, I sauntered back to my family, who moved their arms protectively around me. Nat ran a hand through my hair, saying softly, "if any idiot boys bother you ever again, just call your parents, okay?" she grinned at me. "Nice punch, by the way."
I rested my head on Steve's broad shoulder. He ruffled my hair and met my eyes. "Thanks, Steve," I told him. "We won't be hearing from him ever again."
"Unless he wants both Captain America and the Black Widow on his tail, let's hope not," Steve chuckled, his arm around my shoulders.
"And Spiderman!" piped up Peter. He moved over to me and gave me a hug. "Sorry I didn't do more. That Marco guy better be careful from now on. He's gotten my permanent hatred, and not many people can manage to do that."
Nat kissed me on the cheek, locking eyes with Steve. Slowly but surely, they both nodded. She was about to say something when she paused, her eyes glancing elsewhere. Her mouth opened into a silent gape. Steve followed her gaze and swore.
"Language!" I giggled, imitating him, my laughter dying on my lips when I saw what they were looking at.
It was the men in black. And they were moving towards us.