Fourth in the Timeline series |
Clara Lewis never expected to be back in the 1940s and Howard Stark never expected to have to help her get back...again. But with Howard branded a traitor Clara knows of only one person who can help her: Peggy Carter...
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An odd, calming sense of nostalgia overcame Clara as she walked along the bustling streets of New York, 1946. Everything looked familiar yet so, so different.
Everywhere she looked she saw streets she recognised but they'd since been rebuilt after a bomb had fallen.
There was a different feeling too. The people walking in the streets didn't have that same terrified aura about them as they did in the 1942. Everyone looked and felt more happy, more safe: more free. But not Clara.
Clara felt uneasy as she pushed her way through the crowded streets. She can't be stuck here again, she thought as she hurried through the crowds, rushing towards her destination.
It was still there, surprisingly. Clara had thought it had been destroyed in the war but the dusty old bar Howard had dragged her down too many times to count still stood.
It was tucked away down an alley and looked increasingly bleaker than she'd remembered but it was definitely the right place.
Clara had no idea where Howard was living these days. Come to think of it, she had no idea if he still went to this bar but it was her best shot.
The bar was almost deserted except for a drunkard or two struggling to keep themselves on their bar stool and a wethered bartender who Clara recognised but looked much older and disheartened.
He watched her intently as she crossed the room towards him, his hooded eyes furrowing, in suspicion or recognition, Clara couldn't tell.
"I'm looking for Howard Stark. Do you know where he lives?" Clara asked almost in a whisper so as to not disturb the perfect silence that had befallen the once lively bar she remembered.
He scoffed at her and carried on drying glasses with a tattered cloth, ignoring her completely.
"Could you tell me where I could find him?" Clara persisted.
"I ain't gonna help you find that traitor." He snapped at Clara and continued drying glasses and ignoring her.
"What?" Clara asked completely perplexed.
"Ain't you seen the paper?"
"Must have missed it." Clara mumbled an unconvincing excuse as the bartender slammed his on the bar.
The headline stared Clara in face 'Traitor on Trial: Stark Technology Discovered in Enemy Hands'.
"Do you have a phone book?" She asked cautiously, unable to recall her history lessons from school about when the phone book was even invented. Like she would have been taught anything practical.
"Course I have one. You want to take a look at it, it'll cost you."
"I suppose it'll cost me to use your phone too?" Clara asked sarcastically.
The bartender nodded. Clara sighed, she had no money on her. Or rather she had no 40s money on her. Clara reached a hand up to her head to unfasten her earings.
"These," she said, placing the small studs down on the bar, "Are real diamonds. One for the phone book, one for the phone. Deal?" She said, covering them with her palm until the bartender gave her the phone book and let her through to use the phone.
Thankfully the bartender had never seen real diamonds before.
Clara flicked through all the names until she found Howard's number and frantically dialed the numbers. The phone rang, the consistent droning driving Clara crazy. And then the line went dead.
The second Clara took the phone away from her ear, the bartender appeared by her side, holding out his palm to demand more payment. Clara sighed and slammed the phone back into its cradle. Left with no other choice, she returned to wandering the streets.
The rush of people down the busy streets overwhelmed Clara. The sense of entrapment threatened to engulf her as Clara's thoughts ran wild.
How was she ever going to get back home if Stark was branded a traitor. She didn't even know where he was!
Tired and scared, Clara slumped down on a park bench to take some deep breaths and figure out what to do next.
Clara had barely had any time to think before a young man in a smart suit slid onto the empty space next to her. They sat in suspicious silence, neither one fully trusting the other.
Clara couldn't help shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right thanks to her S.H.I.E.L.D training.
And Edwin Jarvis couldn't help thinking something wasn't quite right because his boss and close friend Howard Stark was branded a traitor.
"Are you looking for Howard Stark?" He asked, not looking at her to keep up the pretence to anyone who might be looking.
"Yes." Clara said in the same way, "Do you know where he is?"
"Who are you?" He asked cautiously.
"Clara. Clara Lewis. I'm an old friend of Howard's." She explained as best as she could without getting into the whole accidental time travel situation.
"I know who you are. You can't be here." He said astounded.
"I need his help to get back. Can you help me find him?"
"I can. My name is Edwin Jarvis and I'm going to help you, Miss Lewis."
