Dove and Dart (Under Extreme Editing)

Coffee and Collisions

Dart:

And...now! Ugh!

Now! God!

NOW! Son of a motherless goat!

London. London, England. I want to be in London, England, but Coulson had some other idea and I am in New York, New York.

Quick catch up:

I had angrily stomped through the airport, picking up my duffle from the baggage claim with the firmest of scowls on my face. A security guard was eyeing me and began tailing me for awhile because I probably looked like I was on a war path: you know, the usual traveling hassles.

When I had finally escape the bustling airport filled with vile humans all cheery with anticipation of business trips or holidays, who I would have very much liked to show a receipt for the amount they will spend while away just to see them burst into tears.

In case I have not made it clear enough; I am not a people person. I am not really a person though, so I guess I am not a people mutant. Because that made sense. Whatever. It works for me and you grammar Nazis and in depth thinkers can go watch reruns of war movies while I live a real life.

My motorcycle was parked in a lot a few miles offsite from the airport. A small tram took me there and I scared a twelve year old boy into sitting on his mom's lap because he didn't want the last open seat beside me. Man up booger breath. The kid picked for gold the whole time in between terrified glances my way and totally obvious taste tests. Kid...develop a sense of dignity.

Despite the fact that it was a five minute ride I grew bored enough to pull out a knife and a sharpening stone. It was one of the rare occasions I had ever had to flash my S.H.I.E.L.D. badge in order to get away with something meant to kill time. Most of my time was spent on the helicarrier and there my badge meant less than anyone else's. According to most of the crew I was just a trainee when, in real life, I could take all of their lives before they bat an eyelash.

The passengers on the tram were so eager to get off at their stops, most of them jump from the tram while it was still moving, which, according to airport safety rules, is a big no no. I preceded to remind them of this by throwing my knife and embedding it in the warning sign. I inwardly laughed at how much faster they moved after that.

I ended up being the only passenger at my stop, booger kid had already ran off with his mother last stop, and I had the entire bench to myself.

"L-l-la-as-t-t s-st-t-o-p." The tram driver stuttered out the information and ducked his head when I passed. With a snort I ruffled the sixty year olds thinning hair and jumped from the tram with my duffle and bag o' knives.

A timid valet tossed my keys at my face before dashing off.

Sometimes, correction, I always enjoyed the fear I instilled in people.

I mounted my bike and threw my duffle strap over the hook up at the back of my seat. In my knife bag Coulson had tossed emergency cash which I now snatched a twenty from. I kicked my bike to life and tore out of the lot, releasing the bill between my fingers to cover the charge and riding along the sidewalk so I didn't have to wait for the pesky toll blockade to raise.

I wished I had a camera. The faces of the workers were priceless. Of course, I could just skin their faces and keep them...

I road into the city under happy-go-lucky billboards and between cheap cab drivers that more often than not yelled at me when I wove around their vehicles, driving at snail pace to increase the cab fare. It was a little before noon, and honestly I wasn't hungry at the time, but a nice caffeine fix was tempting.