Valen: A Collector's Item

Now is Not

Valen lost count of the days coming to the welcome center to talk strategy. Fury even joined in one day to give details of the last known locations. Other than that, there wasn't much to do than to wait. The team just hoped they'd have their current locations soon before any of the three men found them first.

Tony called a lunch break, which Peter volunteered to take on. Valen agreed to go with him to help carry everyone's food and drinks. Usually, food would be delivered to the team, but this particular restaurant was short-staffed and didn't have anyone to bring it to them.

"Donut World!" Valen yelled as she pointed to the store they just passed.

"Ah! Ha! Doug's Pizzeria."

Valen's eyes flickered back and forth from Peter's side of the window to hers. She read every sign, every word on the side of trucks, and every bumper sticker to try and get a word from A to Z first.

"East."
"East." Peter and Valen read off an interstate sign at the same time.

"I said it first," Valen said, still studying the world beyond the glass for an F.

"You said east last time. You can't remember where signs are when we play this game just so you can get ahead." Peter, questionably paying attention to the road, was also looking for an F.

"You were going to use it, hypocrite."

"Can we pause?" He asked.

"Father! Okay, now we can pause." Valen smiled at him smugly knowing she was ahead by one.

Peter pulled into a full parking lot of a pizza house. It was only noon, but through the restaurant's window, he could see most of the booths taken up inside. "Why is it so busy?"

Valen was already out of the car. She rested an arm on top of his vehicle as she waited for him to get out. She shrugged and pulled her sunglasses down. She tightened her hat and made sure her recognizable hair was tucked into her light jacket.

It wasn't raining, but puddles on the concrete suggested it had earlier.

The two walked inside to what sounded like a school cafeteria during lunchtime. So many conversations were being had at once that it all jumbled into one incoherent muttering.

Peter used his elbow to tap her arm. She turned to him and saw him holding out his hand for something. "Huh?"

"Tony's card?"

"Oh." Valen searched the pocket of her black joggers and handed him the heavy black card.

He examined it, flipping it in his hand. "I feel like your sugar baby the way you just gave that to me."

"Well, I am a Stark. By extension, you are." She smiled as they reached the front of the hostess stand.

The person behind the stand had wide eyes, but not for the two Avengers standing before them. No, she was reading the layout in front of her of all the different seats available until the phone rang. With a small huff, she picked up the phone and in a nice customer service voice, politely took their order.

The facade was over when she put the phone down and finally acknowledged Peter and Valen. There was a small sheen of sweat on her forehead. She was tapping her finger on the stand either in stress or in impatience.

"Hi. Pick up, dine in, or placing an order to go?" She asked nicely, but with an undertone of hurry the hell up, I've got other things to do.

"Uh, picking up for Bruce Parker."

Anger flashed through her eyes as she looked him over. "You're the one who ordered three large pizzas, a lasagna, a calzone, three orders of garlic knots, a chicken Parmesan, and two subs during rush hour?"