Darkness Within (ON HOLD AND MAJOR EDITING BEING DONE)

Chapter 25 ~ Off To New York Again

I jump into a fighting stance with two balls of fire in my hands.

"Put those down, kid. Before you hurt yourself," says the domestic product.

"Listen to him. Put it down, Jenny," mom adds on saying the second part in her mom voice. You know what I'm talking about, all moms have it.

I huff before closing my hands letting the fire extinguish. Walking further into the room I lean against the wall.

"Tell me again, why are the Avengers in our living room?"

"Tomorrow is Christmas," Dad says.

I groan and move from the wall. I start to head to my room when I think of something. Turning back to the group I ask, "So, are we staying in Gotham or going to New York?"

I can tell mom is annoyed with being the only person not wanting to be with this band of heroes. Trust me when I say I don't want to be with them any longer than I have to. Thor stands and says in his awfully loud voice, "Let's head off back to Avenger's tower then. The season of Yuletide will not wait forever."

"It's Stark Towers," mutters an annoyed Tony Stark.

Loki face palms, as does the rest of the room. I head to my room to pack for the next week. A trip to New York means Webs and Bucket along with White-bitch, Strong-shades, and Blonde-Dragon. I know those aren't their names, but it's an improvement. After packing two large suitcases and a medium sized backpack I'm ready to go. Hey, I'm a girl. What did you expect? I could've packed more, just thought it'd be to much.

With a suitcase in each hand and the backpack on my back I head back out into the living room. Mom is still in her room packing. Dad, basically, already has his crap packed so he's good. I drop my things with a huff and flop down onto the closest Avenger to me's lap. With a false sigh of despair I look up into a pair of brown eyes and see that I've landed in Tony Stark's lap.

"Get off, Kid," he yells as he pushes me to the floor. Rude ass mother fucker.

I dust myself off and just jump right back. This time I get straight to the point.

"Carry my things for me peasant."

"I'm the peasant," he asks incredulously with a finger pointed at himself.

"Why of course, and I'm the queen. Now do as your queen demands and carry my things."

He shoves me off again and crosses his arm defiantly. I stick my tongue out at him and he does the same in return.

"Great, now I have to watch two teenagers," mom complains as she trudges into the room with her things, "get off the floor Jenny."

I hastily get up and grab my things again.

"So how we getting there," the thought finally dawns on me.

"A shield jet is coming down any moment to fly us back to our tower," Black Widow answers. I have no clue what this chick's name is.

"My tower," Tony mutter to himself. We all ignore him.

I only know two of the Avenger's real names. That's Thor and Tony. I know Thor because, well, he's my uncle. I know Tony because he can never keep his trap shut and all he truly talks about is how amazing he is. This includes boasting about being Ironman.

I nod my head in acknowledgement. Moments later we are in front of the building loading up our stuff. I have Uncle Thor take my things when something catches my eye. I see the tire tracks and glass from where I was just cut, but my blood is missing. The hell? I bet Batass has something to do with this.

That reminds me. I look down to my arm and notice it still bleeding. I rip part of my shirt off and clean my wound. I've done this before. Once the glass is out and the bleeding has stopped I bury the piece of cloth. Wouldn't want anymore assholes to get at it.

We board the aircraft. I look around at the controls and determine that this is the same model as the aircraft I stole last month. Well, now we both know that that means I could fly this thing. An interesting thought to hold onto.

When we arrive at Stark towers, or whatever it's called, Tony's AI system, Jarvis, leads me to my room. Just one room here is four times as big as my entire apartment. Deciding it'd be easier if I unpacked now, I do just that. After all my stuff is where it temporarily belongs I gaze at my temporary room.

The bed is a huge, white queen sized bed and frame with a black confiter and white pillows up in the upper right hand corner of the room. In the lower right hand corner is a door leading to my very large bathroom. On the left hand wall is a walk in closet. A large glass top desk with marble columns sits on the left wall. A couple abstract pieces of art hang from here to there. Then directly across from the door is a giant glass window. I love large windows. The walls are a light grey color and all the baseboards and everything along the wall are black. The doors, though, are a bright white.

After all my things are where they belong, for now, I head back down the hallway to the elevator, trying to get a feel for this place. Stepping inside the elevator I find that someone is already in here. A nervous man with dark hair who fiddles his thumbs. I believe his name is Bruce Banter, right? Why is he here again?

"Hey Banter, right," I ask.

He nervously looks up before saying, "Banner, Bruce Banner." Aw, he's nervous. He even stumbled over his words. Cute.

"Banner, whatever. I don't seem to remember you being an avenger," I lift an eyebrow in question.

"You wouldn't recognize this face," when I look at him confused he continues, "You'd probably remember the other guy, the Hulk."

Before I could comment further the door opens with a ding. We enter the main living room that they all seem to hang out in. Banner quickly scurries away, obviously uncomfortable with me and my family's presence. I walk further into the room and see a familiar, and unwelcome might I add, face. Director Nick Fury.

"Fury, how long's it been since I last saw you, " I say sarcastically.

He turns to me and says, " I believe it was when you escaped from the helicarrier and all the information on you and many others were destroyed."

"Well, that's to bad. I was looking forward to seeing dumb and dumber again," I say as I hop on the couch and cross my legs in a sarcastic tone with an obvious smirk.

"Your mother, Selina Kyle, " Fury inquires.

With a hint of anger in my voice I say, "None of your business, is it now?"

"I guess not," he says. It's clear as day that he hasn't dropped it. As if I know nothing of his true intentions I mutter, "Thought so."

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Suggestions? Grammar mistakes? Comment. Picture of Stark Tower.

Thank you,
Emerald Chalsa.