Hi everyone! Happy Memorial Day one and all! Just saw Civil War for the second time today and it was just as good the second time around. This is going to start out before the movie, obviously, but we'll get into it and beyond. Please read and review; I hope you all enjoy it!

Prologue

"Why do you wear those?"

Pushing the square, purple frames back up along the bridge of my nose, I offered the gangly teen across the counter a disapproving stare, "What, you don't like them?"

His dark eyes widened and he drew his lower lip into his mouth, his cheeks coloring as he stared at the countertop sheepishly, "No, that's not- I didn't mean it like that. I like 'em, really; they're cool. But, like, I dunno; they're-big? Just my aunt thinks you'd look better if you didn't wear them…"

"Your aunt, huh?" I teased, winking as he nodded adamantly, "sure it's not just you, bud?"

His frantic nodding turned to hasty, wild-eyed shaking, nearly leaping from his seat in alarm, "No, no, no, I don't like you. Not that I don't like you, but, ah, I don't like you? I do, I mean, it's just not- you're pretty, but- not that I-"

Snorting, I shook my head and stood on the tips of my toes, leaning across the counter and ruffling his hair, "Cool your shit, Petey, I get it."

He exhaled heavily, throwing his head back in relief, only to nearly topple off of his stool as I smirked, "You dig me."

Laughing at the poor kid's misfortune, I trotted over to the stove and retrieved two massive blueberry muffins Tossing one at him, I marveled silently at his lightning-quick reflexes and smirked. It was only fair, feeding him, especially after the teasing I put him through. He was just so damn easy to mess with.

I adjusted my glasses once more and grinned, "On the house, kid. And, for the record, I think these glasses are the bomb."

He chuckled and shook his head, wincing, "People don't say that anymore, Aury; God, how old are you?"

"How old are you?" I retorted, sticking my tongue out at him and swatting at him with my rag, "twelve?"

"Sixteen!" he protested with a less than intimidating glower, taking a massive chomp out of his muffin and promptly choking. He chugged the glass of milk I sat next to him, frowning as I laughed my ass off and moved toward the window.

Though I doubted Peter would have made much of the car door slamming down the road, I had more than a little reason to be wary. Pulling back a gauzy white curtain, I drew my glasses down my nose and scanned the streets below my apartment. Nothing visible, so a block or two over. Peering past, through the buildings on my block, I searched for the source. It wasn't Creeper Joe that lived in the corner apartment, with his telescope and 3 a.m. walks through the halls, or NormAndy, the men that lived in the apartment just below mine and left flowers on my welcome mat every holiday. So long as Creeper Joe didn't steal them first…

It wasn't even in the parking lot at the bakery on the other side of the block.

Two streets down, hidden behind a bank, a nondescript black sedan caught my attention and my gaze narrowed. Through the thick steel of both the building and the car itself, and the tinted windows, I caught sight of two forms, a man and a woman. They were clear as day, though to anyone else, they certainly wouldn't have been. The woman had a mop of thick, red hair and gold aviators, while the man was squished in the normally roomy car, built beyond belief, blond and blue-eyed.

The Black Widow and Captain-Freaking-America.

Shit.

As they began to exit their vehicle, I rounded on Peter, still munching away at the muffin and shooting me sullen glares every now and then. I blew him a kiss and noted, "Sorry to kick you out, neighbor, but I gotta get some work done. This book isn't gonna write itself. Tell May I say hey, okay? And bring her a muffin for the compliment."

He nodded, hopping to his feet and trotting over to the stove. He grabbed another from the plate, his gaze shifting to mine; a quick glance at his backpack showed another two muffins stashed away from sight.

I grinned, glad he enjoyed them anyway, and walked him to the door. He gave me a wave and a grin, stepping into the hallway and heading across the way to his apartment.

"Hey, Petey," I called, fighting a grin and noting cheerfully, "maybe give May two of those muffins, yeah? Don't wanna make yourself sick."

"Thanks, Aury," he noted shyly, ducking his head and fiddling with his keys, "see you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing," I nodded, peering beneath my specs, toward the floor to my left, watching through the carpeting, the wooden flooring, and the steel beams. I watched as the Captain and the Widow made their way into the complex, chatting inaudibly, their steps swift and tense. "Maybe I'll make orange cranberry?"

"My favorite!" the young teen grinned, "alright, see ya, Aury."

"Bye, kid," I waved him off, watching him shut the door and leaning against the threshold of my apartment, turning and staring down the hall. It would take, oh, a minute and a half to get up the three floors to my home; I opted not to watch their progress, not wanting to invade the privacy of my neighbors to do so. And, honestly, not wanting to see what Creeper Joe was up to behind closed doors.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened; neither of its occupants seemed surprised to see me waiting for them; the Black Widow did nothing but the Captain inclined his head in a silent greeting.

Turning my back to them, I entered my apartment, leaving the door open and retrieving my plate of muffins. Setting them on the marble countertop, I hauled myself onto a stool and rested my elbows on the surface, clasping my hands together and resting my chin atop my fists. Staring at the doorway, I watched them enter in silence, the Widow shutting the door behind her and pressing her back to it. The captain stood stoically between us, his arms folded behind his back.

Lifting the plate of muffins, I held it out to them, a polite smile on my face, "Muffin?"

The Widow smirked and the Captain shook his head, "Aurelie… we need your help."

Sighing, I set the plate down and raked a hand through my short, blonde pixie locks, "Cuttin' right to the chase, huh, Cap?"

A tiny grin tugged at his lips and his stance eased, crossing the distance between us in three strides, making my apartment appear woefully tiny. He dropped himself onto the stool Peter had recently vacated, helping himself to a muffin. Taking a bite, he nodded in approval, those baby blues lifting and meeting my golden ones, "We've got intel on an enhanced, goes by Mystique. We need you to help us find her. Apparently she can change herself into anyone. You'd never be able to tell the difference between her and whoever she's pretending to be. But, with your abilities, we figured we had a shot at finding her."

"Cap, I'm flattered you keep coming onto me-," Christ, he blushes more than Petey does, I thought amusedly, "-but that Sokovia deal was a one-time thing."

"And D.C.?" Natasha queried from the doorway, arms folded across her chest, one brow quirked high on her forehead.

"Two-times, then."

"New York?" Cap continued, fighting and failing to hide a grin, ignoring my protests, "with Loki and that Wilson guy… Sam even said there was something in San Fran last year you were involved in? C'mon, Aurelie, it's more than a one-time thing. You're a hero."

"Hero's pushing it, Cap, but thanks," I replied, offering him a tight, sheepish smile. Rolling my shoulders, I lowered my gaze and contemplated his request. He wasn't wrong; I had lent a hand on more than one occasion to my fellow gifted companions, but, try as I might, keeping a low profile was a bit of a high priority for me. Hell, my neighbors had no idea what I could do; I wanted to keep it that way.

Natasha approached the marble island and slid a Stark tablet toward me, exchanging it for a muffin and stepping away, "Just think about it, Aurelie; we could really use your help on this one."

Exhaling noisily, I skimmed through the file on this Mystique, this Raven, contemplating how easy it would be to pick her out of a crowd when she could mimic the appearance of anyone on the face of the planet. They weren't wrong; my abilities could be of use to them.

It was a well-known saying; "the eyes were the window to your soul."

Well, the eyes were far more than that for me. A bright gold in color, they were the key to my abilities. Not only could I see through steel, wood, and flesh, I could take control of any person, any animal; anything with eyes that could meet my own. Thoughts could be changed, actions controlled, stopped, begun. Piercing, burning flames weren't unheard of, though I had to concentrate - and be well and truly pissed - to pull that one off. Perfect vision at night, in water, through a blinding snowstorm… any and all of it was possible with these golden peepers.

It wouldn't take much to meet see through this Mystique's disguise, see her deep blue flesh beneath whatever skin she chose, and prevent her from breaking into the First National Bank and filling Magneto's pockets. Make her march back to her boss empty-handed and uncertain as to why she had such a sudden change of heart.

Throwing my head back dramatically, I groaned loudly, fighting a grin, "I guess I could help you out. Just. This. Once."

"You say that now, Aury, but admit it, you're a sucker for this pretty mug," Nat noted, tipping her head toward the handsome captain and snorting when I rolled my eyes and batted them at the flustered man. Offering him an exaggerated wink, I feigned grudging acceptance, "Nat, you're right. He's just too damn beautiful."

"Alright," the captain noted, redder than Peter, palms on the counter as he shoved himself to his feet and avoided my glowing gaze, "Avengers base, tomorrow morning, oh-six-hundred.; we want to be there before she walks through those doors." He met my gaze briefly, offering me a warm smile, "Thanks for the muffin, Aurelie."

"No problem, Cap," I saluted him, trailing after him and Natasha. Catching the soldier by the elbow, I turned him toward me and queried softly, "You find anything new on Bucky?"

Lips pursed, his eyes fell to his boots and he toed at the worn, Persian rug at his feet, "No, not really. Some false leads, cold trails. He's good at covering his tracks."

"You'll find him, Steve," I offered him a reassuring grin, nodding at Natasha as she made her way into the hallway without a word, "don't worry."

He nodded once, jaw clenching as he thought about his wayward friend. Nudging him in the side - he didn't move an inch - I grimaced playfully and queried, "Oh-six-hundred, huh?"

"Oh-six-hundred," he affirmed, "thanks, Aurelie."

Shutting the door after him, I pressed my back to the door and frowned, tipping my head back and sighing. Snatching the glasses from my face, I grimaced, pressure building in my head as I let my guard down. I saw through anything, everything, met the gaze of an unknowing florist in the neighboring city and freezing her in her place for a good thirty seconds, mid-conversation, accidentally saw two skeletons intertwined atop a table in the middle of some steamy sex…

Eyes snapping shut, I shoved the glasses onto my face and slowly cracked an eyelid open, peering through the unassuming lenses; the tension drained from my shoulders and I raked a shaky hand through my hair.

That's why, May, I slid down the door, elbows on my knees as I massaged away the growing ache at the base of my skull, that's why.

/

Welcome one and all! I hope you enjoyed this little tidbit! Please review; I'd love to see what you all think!