Jupiter [Marvel Phase I]

thirty-four.

ONE YEAR LATER;
Somewhere in the Pacific Northwest

"-And that's when you lean over the counter and grab the cash from the open register," said a man in an orange baseball cap. Under the shadow cast by the brim of his hat, his eyes were grim.

His partner's eyes were much the same, but were shielded from view by his sunglasses. Unlike his friend, this man seemed a lot less sure about what they were doing. His head whipped back and forth quickly, scanning the alley for witnesses.

"B-but what if she's a-armed?" The second man asked. His stutter wasn't born from the cold, but an obvious anxiety that seemed to radiate from his every pore.

"Don't worry," the other man replied. "I've got it handled.

When he opened the side of his jacket, the man in the sunglasses flinched back. "Whoa, man! Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, waving his hands at the now-exposed gun handle. "What are you- What are you gonna do with that?"

"Calm down," the first man hissed. "I'm not gonna use it. If the old lady decides to put up a fight, I'm just gonna flash it. Worked on you, right?"

The second man nodded rapidly. "Hey, it's, uh- It's n-not loaded, is it?" There was no answer. He bit his lip and did another sweep of the alley. Well, there was no backing out now. "Where'd you even get that?"

"What's with all the questions?" The apparent ringleader asked, then spat. "Doesn't matter."

His partner in very literal crime looked ready to argue when a third voice entered the conversation. "I think you'll find it matters quite a lot."

Both men whirred in the direction of the voice. Feminine, possibly British. Stood at the end of the alley was a woman and she was staring directly at them. Well, probably. She had on a large pair of aviators and most of her face was obscured by her scarf. The only things they were certain of were that she was tall and wearing a very nice trench coat. And her unwavering stance meant that she was definitely waiting for their answer.

"Aw, f-"

"You talking to us?" Baseball cap spoke up. He gestured purposefully to open up his coat and flash the firearm once more.

"Unfortunately," the woman sighed.

She didn't move and neither did the men - though the one in the glasses looked even more flighty than he had moments ago. Well, so long as no one was going anywhere.

"But to bring it back to your earlier question," she pointed to the guy in the glasses. "It does matter whether or not the gun's loaded. The court will probably use that to prove intent of violence, which will bring you up to aggravated robbery. Doesn't matter whether or not you actually use it. Either way, I doubt you have a concealed carry permit, so they can add that as a separate charge - not to mention if you came into possession of that gun legally. Again, highly doubtful." The woman paused the verbal avalanche to cock her head to the side. "You should really start listening more to your friend here."

The stunned silence stretched out for three seconds, four seconds, before the man in the baseball cap drew his gun. After a long moment of stillness, the woman just sighed exasperatedly.

"I guess that answers the question of whether or not the gun's loaded," she remarked, sounding more like a person looking out the window to confirm it was raining than someone with a gun pointed squarely at their chest. "Are you sure you want to do this, mate?"

"Give me one reason not to," the man replied. His steady voice stood in great contrast to his partner, who looked an ace away from legging it out of there. The woman shrugged back at him. "Exactly. I have a gun and you don't."