Vengeance [Avengers Fanfiction]

[Chapter 20]

[Steve]

    The soft murmuring of guests mixed with the quiet harmonies of a string quartet echoed from inside of the stately hotel as the sleek limousine smoothly glided under the deep sapphire blue of the pavilion. Gold letters embroidered on the fabric flapping slightly in a frigid breeze read L'hôtel Cigogne

    "The Stork Hotel." Quinn mused. "They paid for this event with money that was supposed to go towards keeping the city clean." She stated, a hint of disgust in her tone.

    "You speak French?" I asked, not even bothering to question how she knew what money went towards which event.

    "Oui. Bien que je n'ai pas parlé depuis un moment, je suis encore assez couramment." she said as our limo inched towards the doors, the driver being directed by a valet.

    "I'm taking that as a yes." I replied, only understanding fragments of what she said. "I used to know a couple of people who spoke French when I was in the war, so I picked a little bit up. Mind you, they were mostly curse words."

    "I can only imagine." she smirked.

    The limousine came to a stop, and I turned to her. My mood had slightly dampened with the thought of my comrades back when I was fighting HYDRA in World War II, but it quickly dissipated.

    "Are you ready? Make sure to keep your earpiece on." I reminded as I pressed the tiny, inconspicuous silver dot on the inside of my ear, turning it on. Thankfully, SHIELD had programmed it to only play what others connected to your earpiece were saying when they were out of hearing distance so a little voice in your ear wouldn't be repeating the same thing the person beside you was saying. Another technological marvel I hadn't even expected to exist.

    She did the same and nodded to me. "I'll open the door for you." I said, climbing out of the car and smoothing my tuxedo before making my way over to the side of the car.

    I pulled open the door and offered my hand to help her out. Her gloved hand closed around mine, surprisingly warm as I assisted her out of the car and closed the door behind us with a click. The agent driving gave a nod to me before pulling away. As soon as she was standing steadily on the pavement she dropped my hand, leaving a faint, warm remembrance of its presence.

    Remembering my manners, I held out my arm for her to take. "Kathleen." I said, a small smile on my face.

    "My dear George." The corners of her lips slightly twitched upwards as she clung to my proffered arm and we began striding into the hotel, a doorman holding open the gleaming glass and bronze doors for us. Our feet echoed against the impeccable, white, marble tile swirled with black and gray as I escorted her through the entrance. I noticed that Quinn must have been purposefully walking louder than she usually does to act more like a normal party attendee.

    "You have the invitations?" She asked as we walked across the lobby and towards the ballroom that S.H.I.E.L.D. had shown us on the blueprints of the hotel.

    "In my pocket." I answered.

    She nodded and then mumbled quieter, "I really don't like this mission. I hate parties like this."

    I didn't have time to ask her why as we rounded the corner, coming to the doors of the ballroom and face to face with two hotel employees dressed in wrinkle free, white suits with black ties.

    "Oh, George, really." A tinkling laugh came from beside me and I was almost caught off guard as Quinn smiled, pushing me lightly as if I had just told a joke. Smiling and going along with it, I laughed too, glancing down at her grinning face and my heart skipped a beat, which I ignored.