Caffeine Rush (Avengers Fanfic)

Chapter 3: Introducing Rush

"I don't trust her." Natasha stated as soon as Jesse was gone. "She seems too comfortable with us to be normal."

"That doesn't mean anything, Nat," Tony reprimanded, "besides did you hear that squeak? That was not the reaction of someone comfortable in our presence. Give the girl a few days, alright. I promise you won't regret it." Just as he had finished his sentence, an alarm went off. The team suited up instantly and Tony asked FRIDAY, "give me the lowdown, what are we dealing with?"

For a moment, FRIDAY didn't respond, then she said, "sorry, boss, but there appears to be a malfunction, the event has been dealt with."

"By who?"

"Unknown, sir."

"Give me eyes, FRIDAY." Tony demanded, a hologram of the scene was projected. A guy with a bomb strapped to his chest was holding up a stadium filled with spectators. But then a streak of light flashed across the screen twice and the guy was cuffed to a police officer, the bomb nowhere to be seen. Abruptly a flash of light streaked across their common room floor, a little too similar to the feed to be a coincidence. When it was gone, there was the bomb with a sticky note on the counter that said, 'it's been deactivated, you're welcome' with a winking face.

Steve sighed as he picked up the sticky note, "looks like we have a new player in the field, a fast one too."

"And one that knows where our base is." Sam pointed out.

"FRIDAY, did you capture image of it?"

"Of course, boss."

"Bring it up, and slow down the frame rate." FRIDAY pulled up another hologram of the light, but no matter how slow she brought it, it couldn't show a clear picture of the person, only a hazy outline of light and shadows that showed that it was indeed a person.

Wanda gazed at the image with such wonder, "doesn't it look like him? Like Pietro when he used to run?"

Vision nodded, gazing at the image as he put an arm around her shoulder, "the odds of Pietro's abilities occurring more than once is astronomical, the odds of them reoccurring without a genetic link are even more so. But it is worth noting that this enhanced is faster by a significant degree so there is a chance that their abilities are unrelated. Did Pietro have any descendants?"

"No way, it was just us and he was too young to have a child older than six before he . . . you know."

Steve shook his head, "either way, we need to find this person."

I refrained from scoffing as I eavesdropped from the other room I had yet to leave, if I wanted them to find me, I'd just reveal myself in all my suited glory. Maybe after they trusted me as both their barista and as a superhero independent of the Avengers, then maybe I'd reveal myself as one and the same. But not before then.

For now, I had a couple hours to kill and a whole city to patrol. If they wanted to catch me, fine, I would give them plenty of opportunities . . . if they could keep up. I reactivated the suit that Uncle T, the Tony Stark of my universe, had made for me that was contained in the blue lightning bolt emblem on my chest and started running once more. As I was passing through the common room, I grabbed another sticky note and wrote 'catch me if you can, Cap'n Frosty and friends - Love, Rush' and stuck it on Tony's forehead.

Then I phased through the window, disappearing in a blur of blue and white light. A sudden hit of logic made me stumble over my own feet. I had gotten my ride from Tony, which was way outside the city from the coffeeshop, they would start wondering how I would get back and I didn't need that.

Kicking myself, I ran back to the compound and deactivated my suit before slowing to visible speeds, the conversation quieting as I stepped sheepishly back into the lounge area. "In my haste, I may have forgotten that you gave me a ride from the city."

"You go to the city to get coffee everyday?" Natasha scoffed.

"Four times a day." I pointed out. Tony sent me a dirty look at that comment, apparently they didn't know that. Oops. Now why didn't I feel the slightest bit guilty? Oh right, I'm a total bitch that enjoys the suffering of others.

"I can't leave right now, Avenger stuff came up," Tony sighed, "but FRIDAY can direct you to the garage. Oh, and FRIDAY, arrange the moving service for sometime in the next couple days."

I think a neuron in my brain just misfired, making my facial muscles resume their resting bitch face. "Sorry, say what now?"

"Oh, didn't I say anything? Part of the contract is moving into the compound, for security reasons and all that, but also for my own convenience. You'd have your own room, no rent, no food expenses, no utility bills."

"Sold!" Wait . . . shit. Forgot that they didn't know about me being Rush yet. Taking it back would just make me look suspicious, especially because I didn't actually have a reason outside of my speed to deny the opportunity. I would have to go along with it. But this could make things complicated.

"Well that solves that, take a car back to the city, keep it, I know you don't have one, consider it an asset of the position."

Okay, I knew Tony had plenty of money and a shit ton of cars, but I draw the line, I was not a charity case. I would take the room and the food because I needed it with my high metabolism and certain speedster needs, but there was no way I'd accept more than that, especially something as useless to me—and as expensive—as one of his cars. "I don't need a car, Tony, I have a way to get here, I just need a ride back." I was being vague on purpose, I didn't exactly like lying, to him or anyone else, but I couldn't exactly come out and say 'I'm a speedster from another universe whose also the daughter of your dead comrade's doppelgänger, sorry I left that part out when I introduced myself'. No, it was better to keep my cover story intact.

Tony shrugged, "FRIDAY, give Jesse a ride."

"This way, Miss Sharpe, I have pulled a car up for you." FRIDAY said.

"Ooh, what kinda car is it FRIDAY?" I asked excitedly as I made my way back down the hallway.

"An Aston Martin from the next release."

"Sweeto!" I turned back just before the doors closed, "Tones, you have great taste in cars!" I glimpsed him smirk at the compliment before I had ducked behind the hallway wall. I always admired his cars, I liked things fast and sleek, especially when it came to cars. But I couldn't help but laugh whenever I would see them racing, they barely clocked out at a third of my comfortable speed. Jets were cool too, the faster the better, but I was still faster than most of them at a light jog. And when it came to people? I always felt like they were moving in slow motion, especially when I was hyped up. Usain Bolt? Captain America? They got nothin' on me. Even my father in this universe couldn't outrun a speeding bullet—so I had gathered how his doppelgänger had died here.

The only good thing to come of the Avengers knowing about my alter-identity's existence, was that I no longer had to be covert about my activities. I could wear my suit in the open, take credit for the people I save and the bad guys I stop, I could be Rush like I was back in my universe when I helped dad stop crime—one of the few Avenger of the many who was actually a hero and not just a celebrity or logistics person like Uncle T—who had not only been my crime-stopping compatriot and the voice in my ear while running but one of my greatest friends. His death along with my father sent me on a tailspin, but he died pulling me out of my Speed Madness before I could harm anyone or disintegrate myself. He would call that a worthy end.

Fighting crime using my speed made me feel close to both of the people I had lost and it was a way to honor both of their memories even if the version of them that I had known never existed in this universe. There's a unique feeling after getting over grief, like pain and happiness all at once, I got that feeling every time I ran, it made me faster, it felt like flying. I missed the feeling and hated it all at once, but I couldn't live without it, even if I tried. And until you've felt as I do, there's no way you can understand the feeling. It is not a feeling one can describe, only experience.