Bed of Roses [N. Romanoff]

Chapter 2.13

Scott Lang was definitely different to the usual crowd Bailey surrounded herself with.

She didn't know what to expect when she sat in his hallway waiting for him to walk past eventually, but the quirky and flushed persona did not fit his superhero expectancies. Scott was purely exhausted, stumbling across the hallway when he first noticed the white haired woman sitting, popping a bubble of gum and eyes closed behind her rounded sunglasses.

"You're... you're... you're," he stuttered over with the same beginning of the sentence, pointing a crooked finger in her direction.

Another bubble popped.

"Simply here to chat," Bailey raised herself from the side of the wall, and held out her hand for him to shake.

"Wow," he breathed out, accepting her hand and shaking it much longer than he was supposed to, "I'm open for a chat! Wow, you know Captain America right?"

He was an obvious fan of the renowned Avengers Team, and she laughed at his shock of her presence. She had never really felt like a celebrity, sure a few people knew Bailey's name and alias thanks to the well-informed media, but encounters such as this were too rare to recall.

"Actually, hit the bull right in the eye with that one. I'm here on the Captain's orders," eventually she grew irritated with the forever lasting handshake and phased her hand out of his

"Woah..." Scott raised his hand to his face, turning it around and staring in disbelief.

Bax locked her own hands behind her back and popped another bubble-gum bubble, "Is there somewhere we can talk in private?" she asked, looking down both ends of the corridor.

"R-right. Yes, right this way, wow..." he stumbled on his own words and opened up the door from which he had just walked out of.

"I know we just met and all, but welcome to my room."

She looked around at the mess and snorted from behind her sunglasses. Grey covers were strewn all over the room, a trail of ants lining the wall out to the window and a cracked mirror reflected her intimidating stare that had only been encouraged by her black leather jacket and dark glasses.

"What does Captain America want you talking to me for? Well, I mean, did he watch some footage. It's just, well, I've heard some things-"

Bailey interrupted him, lifting her gaze from the pile of clothes that rested on the foot of his bed, "Yeah. We wanted you to hear such rumours, otherwise you never would heard them. We knew a guy who knows a guy."

"Who knows Luis?" Scott asked.

"Who?" she replied, eyes squinting.

"He's my friend, the one who told me about Falcon and his agenda in the first place," Scott tried to explain to Bailey, shuffling around as he picked up loose clothing and chucked them into a laundry bin to the side of the room, trying to lessen the mess out of embarrassment.