jackalope-- p. maximoff★

eight.

♬

★

HARRIET PERCIVAL AMES BROWN HAS NEVER BEEN ON A LONG PLANE FLIGHT.

So when Sasha and Joshua lead help off the plane, she lets out a little gasp. 

The sun is shining bright and she squints, the light casting an orange glow through her eyelids. It's...yeah, not a big deal as she thought it'd be here. It's just really  crowded.

Sasha and Joshua lug her bag down the stairs attached to the plane, the silver bag making a clink noise as it goes. She trips over one of the stairs near the end. Close call, almost got a lawsuit for accidental homicide of the elderly.

Harriet ponders what the two packed in that bag while she was unconscious, and she contemplates asking them, but stops herself just as fast. They better have packed my fucking jeans.

Harriet feels a bit scrambled, her legs wobbling when they connect with the hot concrete. She nabs her bag off Sasha after a short argument and strides off into the airport waiting area.

It's even busier than the airport back in Georgia, everyone pushing past each other and mothers covering their children's ears to protect them from the barrage of curses that floated around the place. New Yorkers, huh? The lighting's sort of blue in here.

They're all like a swarm of bees, dancing and buzzing around each other. Not bees, actually, more like violent wasps that will kill you if you merely brush their wings.

"Which way, captains?" Harriet mumbles, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow as she stands by the exit gate.

"Follow me, Miss--Harriet." Joshua says, catching himself when Harriet shoots him a withering glare. They make their way through the people and into the parking lot.

The lights are dim, a few of them broken and the entire space filled up with cars, so many that you could see some people parked illegally. Cabs rush up and down the road, stopping by the curb to pick up people in a rush.

She tries her best not to touch anyone but it's unbearably hard. 

Her shoulder occasionally bumps someone, and her bag isn't completely clear of unaware toddlers, but she makes it to the taxi pick up without any hassle.

Sasha and Josh call for a taxi, and the yellow vehicle is so bright it makes her wish that Joshua packed sunglasses. Wait. He did, right?

They hop in, the hot leather burning her butt as Harriet sits down. The cab driver adjusts the mirror. He's okay, kind of cute. It's an observation enough to distract her from her current situation, at least.

Unlike the black SUV they left at the airport, the taxi has a less high comfort level. There's trash on the floor, the seats are burning hot and the metal on the seat belts is scorching. She's pretty sure that that sticky stuff in the corner of the window is just melted car stuff.

The transparent surface on the window is so reflective she can see every feature on her face, every blemish and freckle. The scar above her lip from the time she'd tried to use a stapler gun and pointed it the wrong way; that's a great party story.

She then realises she doesn't know where they're going.

Harriet looks at Sasha, confused out of her mind.

★

I hate this so much.

So, so much.

Harriet looks at her sort-of-not-really-friends, with concern in her eyes.

Sasha's been fidgety ever since they landed, and Josh has been offering small doses of condolences. Harriet suspects they're a couple. They probably are. It's the mannerisms. She'll kick herself later if she finds out they're siblings. 

The car drives through the streets as silence envelopes the car, the sky-high buildings and apartment blocks rolling by in a blur. 

Her gaze falls to Sasha sitting next to her, furrowing her brows. "Where are we going?" She asks, her voice a midge off from demanding.

"I can't tell you that yet Harriet, I'm sorry."

Harriet snorts. "Sure you are." She mutters under her breath. Sorry my ass.

Harriet rolls her eyes in return, crossing her arms over her tour shirt. They've just been driving, and driving, and it hasn't stopped yet. She'd like some assurance on whether she's going to be told anything at this point. 

The air conditioning won't turn on, either, so she's literally sweating through the armpits of her shirt right now and she keeps having to wipe under her nose because it's getting all gross and damp.

★

They drive for about another half an hour,  soon pulling towards what Harriet knows to be-

Stark Tower? 

"Stark Tower? As in the Avengers? What the fuc-"

She's cut off by Sasha's airy voice. "Yes, we're going to Stark Tower. You'll work here for the majority of your time in NYC." 

Harriet scowls, picking at the varnish on the door handle then flickign the lock back and forth. "No way. Dangerous things happen here; I thought you wanted me out of danger."

Sasha sighs, like a parent who's tired of explaining something to their kid. "We do want you out of danger. That's why you'll be working at the Tower, so we can keep an eye on you." The cab driver is beginning to look mildly uncomfortable.

This makes Harriet's scowl deepen. "Why would I want  that? And why do I need it? I've been told little to pretty much absolutely nothing about this."

"Because it is confidential."

"What's so fucking important that I have to be 'checked up on' by you two!?" Harriet screeches loudly, raising her arms. Sasha has no visible reaction to her outburst, her hands crossed over each other in her lap.

Harriet grimaces at her own childish fit, dropping her arms and looking out the window. 

Harriet hates needing protection, that's one thing.

★

a/n: omg i haven't updated in so long and i started getting all these story ideas and stuff so i started posting new book covers and info and i changed most of my cover styles like bro :)

that all happened in about a week. damn. crazy, huh? excited for halloween tho 

edit: ayyyy i'm cooking rn with the editing I can see the improvement (pls read this)