Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“No Loki” Just like that he lets go and instead of gravity, something else pulls him under.He falls into the dark, but there is no darkness,how can there be, when there is no light in his new home.

There is nothing.

And with moments of falling into the nothingness, he too becomes part of it, a muted voice, blind eyes and skin that feels nothing…but there is still something, an anomaly in the in the quiet darkness, a sliver of green, too slippery to pin down and kill,it stops him from fading completely.

***

When the news that Captain America had been found came.Phil had been ecstatic, then he’d learnt that the Captain wasn’t alone,  a woman who had a 99.9% chance of being his wife, who’d vanished on the same day the captain was thought to have died was also with him.He’d rushed to the lab the instant the block of ice containing his hero, had been secured and when the lead scientist had told him that Captain America’s heart was still beating, he may or may not have done a victory dance(complete with an air punch).

Then he’d turned to really look at the two figures in the ice and his joy had quickly flat lined.

The Captain was curled around  a dark-haired woman, her face hidden by his chest and he could see that her long delicate fingers were tightly clutching his suit.

They’d been aware, he realized numbly, in the final moments they’d been aware…and she’d been scared.Steve Rogers , now that the Phil was actually taking him in instead of letting himself be blinded by hero worship looked- broken.

The man had most probably had to hold her as she passed-the serum keeping him alive and aware long enough to watch her fade…and they were going to wake him …and he’d have to bury her.

“Is there any chance she can be revived?”

It was wishful thinking, even he knew that much and the way the doctors looked away was answer enough.

He stayed when they began the thawing process and when they finally reached the bodies he watched as the scientist struggled to tear the two apart without harming lady Rogers,only succeeding after Captain America, even in his unconscious state, was given a heavy duty relaxant that forced his fingers to loosen their hold.

***

The only picture they had of her(one taken on her wedding day) did no justice  to her beauty.There’d  been a moment when the whole room had just stopped and stared.The ice had preserved her perfectly, all the way from her delicate eyebrows to her flawless skin(even her eyes when opened had shown to still be the emerald green many who’d met her had spoke of).She was too pale, that was a given, but that did absolutely nothing to take away from just how near perfect she’d been.

Knowing that her husband was in the other room, unaware of everything and probably hoping he’d wake up somewhere they could be together forever, made looking at her more than a little painful.

The doctors ever practical, wanted to do an autopsy on her immediately.

“She’s basically been mummified and there are no signs of decay on her, imagine the secrets her body holds-”One particularly zealous doctor (her badge read Dr Jeong) said, but Phil quickly nipped that idea in the bud.

“Has a relative given permission for procedure”Phil asked in his best diplomat voice.

“Well, it’s not like there’s anyone to ask,she’s been dead for seventy years, and Captain America is-”

“Captain America is her husband, her very much alive,superhuman husband”He cut in before the woman could continue.

“Will you be the one to tell him why exactly you butchered his wife without even giving him the chance to give his consent, let alone come to terms with the fact that she’s gone”The young woman actually looked surprised at that, like she truly hadn’t considered such a thing and Phil found himself suppressing a shudder.

Field agents like Clint and Natasha were scary in their own right.But that had absolutely nothing on the naïve cruelty that the scientists at SHIELD often displayed.Their ability to do all forms of atrocious things in the name of science, was one of the main reasons why many of them were hired, but seeing the carefree coldness with which they viewed potential test subjects was always unnerving.

Though he knew his order to not do an autopsy wouldn’t be disobeyed, he still felt marginally better being part of the team that wheeled Lucy Rogers,to the  private morgue.

***

It was a very strange thing, to have a man who looked older than you, sit across from you and tell you that your life had been relegated to pages of history.That your comrades were gone-buried long ago, and that in essence-after 70 years of ice-you were the older man…but having gotten a glimpse of the outside world,Steve Rogers knew without a doubt that the man was telling the truth.

The man-Coulson-spoke of duty, of honor and of fighting the good fight, but every time Steve asked about his wife, the other man found something else to talk about.

“She’s gone isn’t she?”It wasn’t a question,he just needed confirmation, the man looked at him blandly-but Steve could make out the hints of sadness in his eyes.

“Yes sir,for what it’s worth I’m sorry”

“Take me to her”Back straight,with his head held high he walked beside the agent.Other agents moved out of their way,casting pitying looks his way when they saw where he was headed.Each step towards where his Lucy lay, became harder and harder to take.In his mind, it had only been a few hours ago that he and Lucy had been laughing together.Now strange people were telling him she’d been dead for over half a century.

Part of him wanted to turn around, to deny their claims.But Lucy deserved better than that, she deserved to have someone recognize who she’d been in life,so he swallowed down the bile clogging his throat and forced himself to move, his tears leaving a trail behind him.

Chapter Text

Steve heard the wolf whistles before he actually saw the other boys.Jeers followed soon after, and Steve knew that meant nothing good- but he’d promised Bucky he’d stay out of trouble-which was why he’d come to the park.

He tried to go back to his sketch, adjusting himself on his tree branch so that he wouldn’t fall, but the jeers had continued and soon enough, a loud yelp followed.Casting a mental apology to Bucky, he put his sketchbook aside, ready to climb off and help whoever was in trouble.The bushes in front of his tree parted and girl crawled out.

The sound of thundering  footsteps  became clearer, and it took only a moment for Steve to piece things together, as he watched the girl looking around frantically.

“Psst…Hey!”Bright green eyes looked up at him, and he waved her over.The girl climbed the tree with more ease than he had, and within seconds she was beside him, and both of them were quietly watching a group of angry young men walk by.

“ I’m Steve Rogers ma’am, if you don’t mind me asking, why were those fellas chasing you?”

“Pleased to meet you Steven, I’m Lucinda Silvers, and , let’s just say people who don’t want t get robbed,shouldn’t count their money in public,”She had an accent, a posh one, Steve was so focused on that, and in the way the light caught in her eyes it took a while for the last part of her statement to sink in.

“Hey you can’t-”She leapt off the tree before he could  finish, giving him one last cheeky wave before dashing off.

***

She was cold, Lucy had always ran a bit colder than normal.Even back in Brooklyn,when he’d been nothing more than a scrawny runt, he’d always tried to give her his coat and she’d always insisted they share, laughing at him while cuddling.

But there was none of that now,70 years out of time,and Lucy was still cold,but now-unlike the countless times he’d fixed the problem in the past-Steve couldn’t do anything about it…and it hurt.

Coulson had excused himself “I’ll give you some privacy,”But Steve knew he was being watched just as he’d been watched in the fake room they’d put him in,but he was beyond caring.

He gently ran his fingers over her cold hand, trying to memorise her.To remember as much of her as he could, she was his last link to his past life and in a few hours he’d no longer be seeing her anymore.

His eyes burned at the thought,and he forced himself to calm down-scared of damaging her while in a crying fit.His gaze raked over her once again,trying to etch her to memory and he paused, realizing for the first time what he’d been unconsciously looking for.

***

Her necklace was gone.

He’d won her that necklace at a carnival-his old body wheezing with every breath he  took as he aimed ball after ball until he hit the bullseye.It was a cheap gaudy thing, with a huge green stone in the center,but Lucy had loved it more than anything,even when they’d gotten married,she’d insisted on just that necklace, not wanting a ring.

Steve wasn’t even aware that he’d voiced his heartache until the door slid open and a redhead walked in,handing him the necklace silently before disappearing.It proved his theory of constant surveillance, but  having  the  necklace again was more important to him.

He didn’t want to hurt her,foolish as it was,by lifting her stiff neck, so he just placed the necklace below her collar bone, the chains falling on her pillow.The picture wasn’t right, and it never would be,but  this was the best he’d get.He reached for her hand, cradling it gently as tears blurred his vision.

What was he supposed to do?How was he supposed to go on?He’d lost everything, he wasn’t even in his own time anymore-and the person he’d promised his life to was lying in a casket.

Finally letting her hand go,Steve straightened, and with one final look at her,he reached for the casket lid and shut it.Moments after he’d done so,her necklace sparked,letting out a bright green glow, before fastening itself around her neck,and in the darkness of her coffin-Lucinda Rogers nee Silvers,blinked for the first time in decades.

Chapter Text

Lucinda Rogers’ funeral broke Phil Coulson’s heart.

It was sad…most funerals were.But that wasn’t what was tearing him apart, it was the sight of Steve Rogers crying.He didn’t make a sound,simply wiping away his endless tears,and taking controlled breaths, some of them getting stuck in his lungs and making his rib cage rattle.

An old man’s cry.

The kind Phil hadn’t seen or heard since his grandfather’s death-and that made it even harder to witness.When the priest finally finished, Fury nodded to the agents by the coffin, and they took their positions,preparing to carry her to the hole that would be both the barrier and the connection between her and Captain America.

That of course was when things had gone shaky…literally.

***

They’d been having tremors ever since the chitauri attack.Though the invasion had fast tracked the formation of the avengers(as well as getting Phil a chance to see Captain America in action,when he’d joined the battlefield to keep the aliens from attacking the helicarrier where his wife was), it had also had a major drawback.

One that had become apparent within hours of the attack.

The giant worms had caused damage that the earth itself was taking a while to heal from.But their scanners hadn’t picked anything up that day,so they’d decided to proceed,

But a quake had come right when they were almost at the grave.And by the time Daisy had calmed it, the damage had already been done.Mrs Rogers’ coffin had fallen from the hands of the pallbearers, and was lying between them-turned upside down.

“Get her up!”It was Fury who recovered first,but by the time all of them were on their feet again, Steve had already turned the coffin over,the action had sprung the lid,and he was just staring into it-unmoving.

She’d been frozen solid,there was no way the impact hadn’t broken her apart.

She was chunks for flesh now…Steve Rogers was now staring at a pile of flesh that used to be his wife’s remains.Oh lord…they were going to have pick up her remains and bury them in a misshapen pile.

This was…this was so bad.

“Captain,I am so sor-”Coulson’s apology died as soon as he made it to the blond man’s side, and he too could do nothing but stare.A second later Fury joined them,his one eye falling into the same trance as theirs.

When Steve finally spoke, his voice was low and hoarse, gravel mixed with broken glass.

“Where is my wife?”Now Phil could add attending a funeral without the guest of honor to the long list of bizarre things in his world.

“I have no idea,”For once he was glad his denial was an honest answer, whoever was going to face the steel in Captain America’s eyes,was going to regret their entire lives.

***

In an abandoned building on the other side of the city, a woman in a flowy white dress materialized, taking the spot that had recently belonged to some old bricks.

Shaking mercilessy she lay on the ground,pieces of glass and stone digging into her as she cried.Endless moments later she managed to get onto her knees, her necklace dragging as she fought to get her shoulders up.Finally managing to straighten her elbows, bile flowed down her throat, acid eating away at her insides as she threw up.

When the fit ended, she  made her way to the nearest window on shaky legs, and looked out at a world she didn’t recognize .Even before seeing the too fast cars,the bright lights and the buildings she didn’t recognize, she’d instantly known she was in a different time, had felt it the moment she’d woken up.It was hard to miss, like winter giving way to spring.

You didn’t intentionally keep track of it, but in the morning when you found flowers growing in a half frozen puddle, you weren’t shocked.

A glint in the corner drew her attention and she gingerly made her way to it, her bare feet overly sensitive.

A lighter.

A silver well made piece,that definitely didn’t belong in the grimy building.

Sitting down in a meditative pose, she twirled the lighter between her hands, suddenly craving a smoke.

“Focus,”She breathed,flicking the light on, a blue flame springing to life.Eyes tracking the gentle sway of the fire, Lucinda Rogers finally allowed herself to process.To take in what this strange new world meant.

***

She’d woken up cramped, no room to breathe, no space to move.

Away, away from here she’d thought, and easy as blinking her prison had fallen away.Then she’d found herself on a tree branch,and down below had been Steven.

Her foolish,brave Steven looking like his heart had been torn out of his chest, wiping tears as an old man sang praises about Lucinda Rogers.A better woman would’ve gone to him then, comforted him.But she’d stayed on the tree, power dancing beneath her veins.

Holding up a hand she’d watched green sparks dance from it.She’d pondered the correct response at realizing she had powers…panic?joy?an uncontrollable need for vengeance?being overwhelmed by the need to help humanity-like Steven?

But she’d  done none of the expected things…she’d left.

A kinder more pleasant girl, would’ve gone quietly.Let her love continue believing a lie and move on, but she’d never been that sweet.So she’d called to the tree she was on.

Hello, lovely she’d whispered.And branches had groaned, leaves chittering exitedly amongst themselves.

So long, so long they’d sang-testing out their voices-so long since someone has spoken to us.

Dance for me, she’d crooned and the old tree, roots stretching wider than the cemetery had moved-taking the earth with it.She’d been gone before her casket hit the ground, not even she was cruel enough to watch a man’s heart break a second time.

***

Coming back to the present, she continued her staring contest with the flame, unnatural green fire mixing in with the blue.

She should’ve been more scared of the new power.But calling it new would’ve been a lie.

It had always been there-she just hadn’t seen it back then.

Back in Brooklyn, it was her hands, swift and light, whether rifling pockets or shuffling cards,the winning hand was always hers.It was her narrow escapes from deals gone south, shadows parting to create room for her, and letting her watch as idiots cursed up a storm,never realizing she was right behind them.

During the war it was bullets raining down on everyone except for her.Her daggers slicing throats  faster than triggers could be pulled.Hardened spies telling her their  deepest darkest secrets,her silver tongue unmatched.

And in the end,it was watching the ice fast approaching, and when they’d hit, her power had held her together.The ice, cold, merciless, and finally…warm, recognizing her.

There’d been Steven,her magic, and the biting cold-all things that meant home, so she’d let herself sleep.

…but she was awake now, and it was time to make some decisions.

Chapter Text

A month  after cancelling her own funeral, Lucinda Rogers had a house in a small town. Complete with a little old neighbour that she regularly scandalized by creating shadow puppets of a man and woman getting it on, on the curtains.The two of them even had a cold war going on, when it came to who had the best kept yard.

Whenever the old battle axe invited her friends, Lucy made a point of having her tea out in her front yard(where she’d planted all her non-poisonous flowers).The knowledge that her mere presence was rubbing her gardening success in the wrinkled faces of the elderly, making studying the magical tomes she’d rescued from talentless owners easier.

Doom , despite having chosen a name like Doom, and reffering to himself in the third person, wrote very comprehensive guides on using technology and magic as one.And Morgan le Fay, who wasn’t fooling anyone with her beauty spells, if you could smell  her decay from miles away, no way what was beneath the glamour was worth looking at. Had the pettiest most vicious hexes, and her spells were layered traps.

 Dr Strange,who as far as  Lucy could tell, hadn’t spent a dime since becoming  the Sorcerer Supreme. Lucy didn’t have a problem with being cheap, but the man was taking it too far. Frugal tendencies aside, his mastery over time spells was nothing to be scoffed at.

Anyway,point was, Lucy’d read all the books she’d taken, she knew the rules but found she didn’t like the feel of it.Her magic obeyed the incantations, but she could tell it wasn’t happy.It fought against her hold, wanting to lash out,to destroy, and she found she had little reason to want to hold it down.

Further study had proven to her that African voodoo, and ancient nordic forms of magic agreed with her.More to do with the feel of power, than being able to recite fancy words.

You wanted it, you pushed for it, blood and fire-simple.

***

In addition to magic,she’d also studied the new world,learning all the current big players.

 Howie’s brat had made something of himself,Stark industries was thriving , and Tony Stark’d also made himself a metal suit,fighting against the world with the tools at he had.Peggy’d created an organisation called Shield,currently run by the two men who’d been with Steven at Lucy’s funeral.They’d been Hydra’s enemies for the longest time.

On paper,it was easy.Good guys and bad guys, Steven’s world.But she knew better,there was no such thing.And even if there was, it was not meant for people like her.

She could join Shield, become a spy, but she’d read between the lines of the countless articles,people like her were useful, but they didn’t really belong.The moment she joined they’d have a bullet ready for her(she was certain they already had one with her Steven’s name on it-she’d never let it meet its mark).Going to Hydra was an option,she could become a living god-they’d worship her.

Red Skull had loved her, she’d snapped an ally’s neck right in front of the man to keep a secret. And she’d seen the hunger in his eyes.

“If only I’d met you first,”He’d whispered in their final encounter, a show of teeth made to look like a smile.She’d kissed his temple, gentle and fleeting, then she’d rammed a dagger into his side, Steven’s shield knocking him off balance.

Even when he was being swallowed by the light, his eyes had sought hers, giving her that same show of teeth as he’d vanished.

It had been decades, but Hydra had fanatical zealots that never forgot,they’d honor her arrival with a blood bath.

But same as Shield, she didn’t want that.If she wanted people dead,she’d do it herself.

***

She could always go back to Steven.Become a proper housewife, mend his suits and make sure he had a meal waiting for him everyday.And in the evenings, they could go for walks in the park, and when he had free time he could draw her like he used to.Gripping her necklace(Steven’s first gift to her) she smiled, spinning the tale in her mind.

But then she thought of herself sitting at home, twiddling her thumbs, watching Steven be heroic on the television.Being relegated to the position of  just Steven Rogers wife.No name would even be needed,she’d be just that,the title that came after the hero.

Her grip on the necklace tightened, the fake gem cracking, all the windows of her house exploding outwards, sparks falling from the lights, as she struggled to contain her rage.

For as long as she could remember, the thought of being in someone else’s shadow had always irked her.

She was her own person, why should she be seen as less than someone else?

Now she had a chance to start all over again and she had no idea what she was going to do with her life.

***

She wanted her man,but she didn’t want to be just Captain America’s wife.Didn’t care enough about other people to be a hero, wasn’t all that interested in world domination, or killing, so that took out her Hydra option.But her soul was wild fire, too volatile to be content with mundane existence.

Feeling the beginnings of a migrane she decided a break was in order.With a wave of her hand, everything righted itself.And with more care than she’d afforded  the house, she cradled her necklace in her hands, magic seeping into it as she fixed even the smallest cracks that time had wrought.

When she was done, her power was lighting the stone up from within, and rather than dim the gem’s glow she decided to let it be.Putting it back on, she felt more like herself again, and with an exhale she was gone.

…a drink was in order.

***

There was something about good alcohol that just agreed with her .During the war it had been the one thing she’d refused to comprimise on(that and looking as presentable as possible).

The last drags of her whisky went down without a fight, and she took a moment to enjoy the smooth heat going down her throat.Her head bobbing slowly as she listened to the singer on stage.

“…it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day,it’s a new life for me…and I’m feelin’ good,”Indeed.

Staring at the now empty bottle of whisky,Lucy no longer felt overwhelmed.Her situation wasn’t all that difficult once she broke it down.She only wanted two things,to see Steven again, and to cause a little mayhem.

And she knew just the thing to get them both.

***

The tall,well dressed woman who walked into the bank drew attention.Her red bottom heels clicking softly as she moved.Her dark green coat draped loosely over her shoulders, contrasting fashionably with her black slim fitting trousers and her equally dark blouse.

“Hello,I’m Lucy Rogers,”She said,smiling at the teller,her voice soft and melodic, carrying in the small building.

“Be a dear and bring me bags full of all the money you have in your vault,”There was a loaded silence-the occupants of the bank struggling to process.

Finally the guards moved, guns raised and pointed at her.She might not having been carrying any visible weapons, but years in the city had made them cautious.

“Hands up!”They yelled in unison,and the lady complied, her soft smile turning impish.And with a flash of teeth, the security officers let out yelps as they let go of the snakes that used to be their weapons.

“Well now,”The woman purred“How about an old fashioned fist fight,”

***

Several minutes later, clutching her aching ribs, security officer Kat,regretted ever meeting the Lucy Rogers.

The woman was a lie-everything about her.

She dressed rich,but obviously she couldn’t be if she was robbing a bank.She looked like a pampered princess, but was secretly a thug with the skills of a champion brawler.After taking out both Kat and her partner Ben, she’d issued an open challenge.

“Anyone who feels like a good fight-feel free to join,”And the whole thing had devolved from there.One of the clients had thrown shoes at her, a man had tried to strangle her,earning himself a dislocated shoulder.There was a woman nursing a split lip, and somebody’s tooth was on the floor. Lucy Rogers was laughing freely,the sophisticated air she’d had around her when she walked in was still there, but at the edges it was tinged with madness.

“You have no idea how much I needed that, thank you all,”A snap of her fingers, and the money she’d spent several minutes fighting them for, materialised in neat stacks.Another snap and it neatly packed itself into a duffel bag.And Kat’s belief that the woman was insane intensified.

She could’ve taken the money without ever being noticed, and she’d let herself be seen for the thrill of the fight.

“Come out with your hands up!”The police (where were they five minutes ago when they were being beaten to a pulp?).

 With a delighted trill(one that sent shivers down Kat’s spine), Lucy spun, blowing them all kisses,and Kat noticed her wounds immediately being less painful.What sort of robber went to the trouble of beating people up just to heal them again?

Giving them a casual wink, she collected her coat,draping it over her arm as she picked up the duffel with the other.She vanished on the spot, and when they heard her laughter outside(it still sounded like something you’d expect from a serial killer), they all elected to stay in the recently robbed bank…where it was safe.

***

The first gunshot hit her right between the eyes,sending delicious vibrations through her skin tight force field.

Then there was a pregnant pause, the cops looking at her in shock.

“Mutant!”One of them yelled, and Lucy’s mood instantly soured.

“You ingrate,I’m a magician!”She hissed,then in a calmer tone she continued“I’ve got the magical necklace and everything,”She said, the  unplanned lie flowing smoothly, there went her plans for a magical scepter.

She took a step forward, and this time it wasn’t just one bullet-it was a hailstorm-hitting her from all angles.With a single leap she was right in front of one officer, and she ripped off the door he was hiding behind, an elbow to the jaw knocking him out.

Electricity danced over her body, momentarily numbing her side before her magic forced it out.It didn’t even wait for her command, simply knocking the attacker off her feet and sending the other woman flying.More of their fellow officers joined them, and for one particularly tenacious old timer Lucy threw up a force field, cutting them off from the others.Making time for them  to go at it-a kick to the nuts securing her victory-she never said she wasn’t scrappy.

“You’ve fought well-rest now,”She told him, stealing the chocolate bar peeking out from his shirt pocket.With that she rejoined the battle-the officers having used her battle time to regroup.

But it seemed like Steven wouldn’t be coming and she wasn’t having fun anymore.

“Sleep,”She called out, soft as a mother’s caress, and all of them dropped to the ground.

With a disappointed shrug she picked up her bullet riddled coat and made her way to the money.She’d barely touched the strap, when an energy beam nearly took her arm off.

“Hands off the goods!”A voice yelled, and she looked up to find herself staring at a metal suit.

“Man,I’ve always wanted to say that without hookers or booze being part of the equation,”

Howard’s spawn.

“Hello,”She greeted, bright as can be,her mood picking up again.

“Hey,Grandma!” He called back, wit, how charming.

An arrow whistled though the air and she held up a hand, incinerating it.When the smoke cleared, her heart went from normal, to trying to claw its way out of her ribcage.

Steven.

He was in his ridiculous Captain America get-up,cowl and all, but that still didn’t stop her eyes from stinging at the sight of him.

“Lucy,”He breathed, and that did her in.All the time she’d spent plotting and she’d failed to account for the most important thing-she’d really missed him. The sudden onslaught of emotion took her by surprise, she was going to cry-she was going to cry- she was going to- No!

If she let sentiment cloud her judgement, she’d mess up her chances in the villain leagues. Mind on the money, in her case it was literal money. She snapped her fingers and the bag unzipped, the piles of cash taking flight like swarming bees, another snap and each stack grew teeth. They hovered omniously behind her, and Lucy felt like a general leading her army.

There was a pause, the Avengers looking over at her new team in mute horror.

A laugh bubbled up and Lucy let it out.

“Capitalism!” She screeched, leading her money into the fight. On the other side of the battle, one Steven Grant Rogers was frozen.

She was alive…and as beautiful at ever. He watched her charge, her eyes alight, hair wild in the wind, a big smile on her face. She was happy-ecstatic- and even though he knew he should be angry at what she was doing to get that joy, he felt his mouth break into a huge grin.

Moments before money met shield, she locked eyes with him. Looking fierce and majestic, like the warrior queens of old. Her smile softened into something small and intimate, meant just for him, and his heart fluttered.

Hello, beautiful, he thought, sending a wink her way. He only had a split second to watch her cheeks turn rosy, before a wall of carnivorous green blocked his view.

Chapter Text

Tony hadn’t really believed it. Steve Rogers’ wife, not only alive, but robbing a bank! The first part he could believe (he’d had a crazy few years), but Lady Rogers…stealing. There had to be a mistake, Tony’d done his homework, and all the books painted her as a soft spoken maiden, who had no personality other than standing behind her husband and smiling blankly.

Given that Capsicle was a ball of dependable boring righteousness,Tony,when picturing the missus had always thought of a quiet, shy woman.The kind that made you think of rainbows and warm hugs when you saw them. Like Captain America, but cuddlier…Lucinda Rogers...was none of that.

For a moment, Tony just stared. The woman was currently up against Nat, taking jabs whenever the widow got distracted by the money. A moment later Nat had her in a head lock, and Tony almost called it a day. But then, Lady Rogers, the picture of class and sophistication, shoved a finger up Nat’s nose. The assassin loosened her grip, and Lucy Rogers struck, biting her arm, Nat let go with a cut off yelp, in the next moment, she had bigger problems.

Namely the banshee pulling her hair while screeching something about inflation, corporate greed...and the horrors of Starbucks?

“Cap, are you certain-that-is your wife,” Tony finally asked, looping around the air to avoid being eaten by money.

“The magic is new…but it’s her,” No one had any right to sound that sappy over a woman who was attacking them in the name of capitalism. On the bright side, Tony could now hand the title of awful-taste-in-women to Captain America, the world was a strange place indeed.

“Mrs Rogers, I know you’ve had a jarring few days, but there’s better ways to handle this,” Natasha tried to reason as she pinned a stack of hundreds with a knife. She was definitely missing a few strands of hair, but Lady Rogers was now spotting the beginnings of a black eye. Next to her, Clint was shooting fire arrows, trying to hit some dough, but the little buggers were fast, so far he’d only managed to get a few bills. The money wailing loudly as it burned.

It was too much- a statement Tony never thought he’d say about money. He watched Hulk, the big guy hitting himself in an effort to swat the piranha-like moolah. Nat and Clint, despite not showing it, had to be in a lot of pain, they were covered in little bite marks. Even he was in bad shape, his repulsors no longer working, the little buggers having chewed through the metal in some parts and cut the wiring. And Steve was…Steve!

“Guys she’s going after Cap!” But the warning came too late. The money swirling around Steve stopped moving, and she was suddenly right there. Cap was strong, a trained soldier and a fierce fighter. While the clips Jarvis had shown them proved that she had some enhanced strength, Tony was certain Steve could take her.

But Tony had forgotten to account for one thing. To the rest of the Avengers, she was the villain of the day, but to Steve, that was his wife, the love of his life.

He had a clear shot at her for a split second, but in that moment Tony knew it was over. Steve’s  arm tensed as he took aim, but he didn’t throw his shield. He hesitated, pure and simple…she did not. The bolt of magic that struck Cap was so bright everything whited out for a few seconds, and when it cleared, Cap’s smoking shield lay on the ground, and Lucinda Rogers was gone. The money vanished soon after, but none of the remaining Avengers cared. The part of Tony’s chest that wasn’t already metal turned to lead, his throat closing up as tears blurred his vision.

...She’d killed him, she’d killed Cap.

***

“Jarvis, scan all video feeds across the globe, I want her found, yesterday” Around him, the remaining Avengers were in motion, Clint and Nat holding back reporters and civilians, while Bruce moved around the still smoking battlefield, searching for clues. They might not have agreed on a lot of things, but Steve Rogers was a solid guy.

He’d mourned her, loved her, and all she’d done was show up and ki-

“Guys, quiet,” It was Bruce who spoke, he’d surfaced after Hulk had knocked himself out trying to kill the money. They all went silent, watching warily as the scientist knelt, carefully lifting Captain America’s shield.

“Oh,” He breathed, before lifting the shield all the way, a ginger kitten crawled out from beneath it.Wearing Captain America’s cowl, the rest of the suit now a little cape on its back.

“Cap?” Clint asked, the kitten lifted its head, licking its whiskers before letting out a tiny meow, Cap’s big blue eyes staring at them.

Oh.

Chapter Text

Kitten Cap napped in Agent Coulson’s lap, and not for the first time Bruce wished he too could be sleeping. Fury had been chewing them out for close to two hours, and given that they’d spent the ten before that, running tests and failing to turn Cap back, he was at the end of his rope.
“...beaten by a grandma...barely out of ice... new to this century…”
‘Hulk smash?’ Taking a deep breath, Bruce released it before answering the mental query.
‘No Hulk, I’m annoyed, not angry, I can handle this,’ Hulk roared, the sound sending Bruce’s head spinning and giving him an instant migrane, but the other didn’t try to take over.
“...Money, money... the world’s most elite team defeated by money, imagine what would’ve happened if she’d had pennies-” There was a loud sucking sound, and sure enough, there was Tony, drinking soda as loudly as possible through a bright pink straw. Fury’s eye twitched, Coulson’s bland look turned blander, and the Hulk paced at the edges of Bruce’s awareness his fingertips turning green.
Gold light erupted over the conference table, and through his squinty eyed stare, Bruce caught sight of red fabric. When the light faded he lowered his hand and opened his eyes fully, taking in the newcomer.
“I believe I may be of assistance,” The Sorcerer Supreme said, eyes immediately fixing on the sleeping human-feline. 
***
Orange light dimmed, and Stephen stepped back, his power fading from the air like it had never been there. Taking in the feline before him with narrowed eyes, the Sorcerer Supreme took a step, pupils glowing eerily as he traced the roots of the magic surrounding the cat.
“Can you change him back?” Had the question come from the likes of Stark, Stephen’s reply would’ve been swift and cutting. But since it was Banner, he answered much more cordially.
“Unfortunately, I cannot,” The cat purred, a tiny pink tongue poking out before it settled on the red cushion it was laying on.
“To reverse the transformation, a prior alteration would have to have taken place,” The whole room stilled, everyone taking in the news.
“Wait...are you saying that’s an actual cat...not Cap?” Stark asked, and Stephen nodded. 
“The only magic on this cat bears the remnants of a teleportation, most likely from when it was switched with the real Captain,”
For a moment, there was silence, eyes moving from the cat, to him. Then the room just exploded. Stark started laughing, clutching his ribs as he shook. Fury looked ready to kill Stark, Coulson was on his phone, clearly providing Fury with an alibi in case of such a scenario. Dr Banner was in the corner, talking softly to himself and taking deep breaths. The archer and the spy were arguing quietly. All the while the widow kept a side eye on the good doctor, too focused on Barton for it to be nothing but a ruse.
Feeling a migrane coming on, Stephen cleared his throat, and the room quieted.
“I can however, use this cat as a focus point, and return Captain America,” 
“Why didn’t you lead with that?” The question, more of a growl came from Fury, and Stephen bit his tongue to keep from replying. A word from him would lead to a timeline where Banner lost control of the Hulk, killed Stark and the widow. Fury, in trying to shoot the beast would kill Coulson. Then Barton consumed by rage would go for Fury, with Hulk pummeling the two of them, to the ground, blood and guts everywhere.
...Definitely not worth the headache.
***
Far from all the stress and bickering, the sun rose over a quaint little neighbourhood. It made its way into one particular bedroom window, the rays moving over a prone form. When the light reached her eyes, the woman on the bed groaned.
“G’away sun,”She grumbled, a low laugh from above her had her opening her eyes a bit more just to glare.
“Still not a morning person huh?” Collapsing back onto his chest, Lucy grumbled some more, moving around until she got comfortable. Once that was done, she tilted her head to squint up at him.
“Am too, if someone hadn’t kept me awake with certain...activities, I’d be perfectly happy to be awake at this hour,” She grinned wolfishly at him, giving his naked body a hungry look. Twin spots of pink appeared on Steve’s cheeks, but he didn’t make a move to cover up.
 He snuggled her closer, dropping kisses on her forehead, her body easily fitting alongside his.“Love you,” He whispered, and it was her turn to blush, she’d never get used to how sincere he was.
“You charmer you, if you don’t watch that mouth of yours I won’t be held responsible for what I do,” He ran his fingers over her exposed skin, a playful smile on his face.
He was tracing her breasts now“Beautiful,”
Heat pooled in her belly at the soft words“Steven, stop it right this instant,”
“Gorgeous,”He moved, getting off his back and bracketing her with his hands and knees.
“My first thought in the morning, and last when I sleep,” He pressed his head against her forehead, looking her right in the eye.
“My eternal heartbeat,” And that did it, she jerked up, bringing him down for a bruising kiss that had their teeth clacking...so much for getting an early start to the day. 
***
Hours later they were curled up on the sofa, her hand on his chest, feeling the miracle that was his heart thrumming against his ribs.
“Why didn’t you just call, or show up at the tower, the others wouldn’t have minded,” Suppressing a laugh, she tilted her head, lips brushing against the underside of his jaw.
“Because my love, if I had, I would’ve spent the morning at Shield, rather than doing all those wonderful things we got up to,”She felt his heart beat quicken, and a lecherous smirk split her face. Goodness she’d missed this man. 
“You also would’ve been under arrest for robbing a bank, you still need to turn yourself in, we’ll find a good lawyer and...” Disentangling from him with an eye roll Lucy stood. A soft smile dancing at the edges of her lips when she saw the look on his face.
He actually believed it too. All these years and the man somehow still thought she had a law abiding citizen hidden somewhere in her. Rushing back into his personal space, she gently rubbed her nose against his, her smile wide.
“Oh, Steven...” Whatever she would’ve said next, was interrupted by the magical equivalent of someone pressing the doorbell repeatedly. The unmistakable pull of the Sorcerer Supreme’s magic dinged against her wards and Lucy sighed. Bloody cheapskate would probably find a way into her house if she didn’t answer.
“Looks like your friends have finally got things together,”
“What?” He straightened too, sharp eyes scanning the room like he’d actually be able to see the magic. One more ding against her magic and her shields cracked. Lucy let them fall, and in a blink her front yard was full of the ‘save the kitten society’.
***
The Avengers, Steve had to admit, had awful timing. Sure, Lucy’d been nowhere near caving when they’d come in, but at least she’d been listening. The moment she’d announced their arrival, Steve’d known the moment was lost.
Getting her to see reason was hard enough on a normal day. With an audience, it was an impossible task. Watching his team, and a man...Dr Strange, yes definitely Dr Strange, walk across the front yard, Steve suppresed a sigh, their timing needed work, but at least they’d come looking for him.
But why were they being led by a kitten?
Said kitten darted forward, jumping onto the porch in a single bound. Lucy crouched down, pulling a stuffed sock from thin air.
“ Here, your payment as promised, grade A catnip, the sock is indestructable by the way,” The kitten sniffed at the sock, gave a long safisfied purr, snatched it, gave the Avengers an unimpressed look, and headed to the house next door.
“Did that just happen? You can talk to cats? The cat was in on the con? What? How?...” It was the first time Steve’d seen Tony run out of steam. He’d have laughed, but he also wanted answers to those questions, and also...
“What con is he talking about?” Lucy straightened, and came to stand beside him, his hand automatically went around her waist and he dropped a kiss on her temple.
Leaning into him, she addressed the Avengers.
“Hello, nice to formally meet all of you, I’m Steven’s wife, Lucy,” The Avengers, still standing in the front yard, were staring like she’d just stripped naked and declared herself the queen of America. Frankly, Steve was a bit offended on her behalf, sure they’d met her during a stick-up but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be polite. Lucy was a proper lady...sometimes.
“ And as for your questions Stark. Yes, that just happened, and no-why would I know how to talk to cats?” The you idiot, wasn’t said aloud, but Steve real her look loud and clear, and given Tony’s offended “Hey!” He saw it too.
 “ And, yes, the cat was in on the ‘con’ as you call it. Strawberry, is my neighbor’s kitten, and an addiction to catnip has made him highly corruptible, poor thing,’’
“Lucy, what did we agree on when it comes to bribing animals,” Back in the day, she’d somehow trained the pigeons in the park to take flight during the busiest times of the day. Often making off with a lot of money while people were distracted.
“They’re not bribes, they’re business deals, every creature on this earth has a right to pursue a career of its choosing. Are you against animal rights, Steven,” She practically hissed his name, her eyes narrowed.
“Logically, I know Cap is right, but her point makes so much sense, Bruce, did all of that crazy just make sense to you? Guys, it can’t just be me right?” Seeing Bruce nodding along to Tony’s question, and the rest of the group looking like they were actually considering her words, Steve felt a headache coming on. Something that should’ve been impossible post serum.
“Perhaps, we should continue this conversation inside,” Agent Coulson said, and all of them became aware of the multiple twitching curtains in the neighbourhood.
***
Steven and Lucinda Rogers.
Phil was standing in the home of Steve Rogers!
With great effort, he kept his usual impassive face, but his inner self was hyperventilating. 
“Everyone, please have a seat while Steven and I bring some refreshments,” They’d come to rescue Steve. They’d come ready for a fight. They had not come prepared for the hospitality they were receiving. Moving in sync in the way that only couples who were genuinely happy, and not faking could, the Rogers walked into the kitchen, smiling softly at each other. Unintentionally restoring Phil’s belief in love, unicorns and the easter bunny.
The moment the door to the kitchen closed everybody was up. Clint, somehow on the ceiling, was placing bugs in the lights. Nat was covering the decorations, while Phil and Nick focused on the furniture. Strange for his part, was checking out the bookshelves, his eyes narrowing at the sight of one particularly ancient looking book. 
“Guys, you do know this makes us those friends who check the cupboards and steal silverware when invited to a dinner party right?” Tony said, but given that he and Bruce were currently scanning the walls, he really shouldn’t have been saying anything.
When Dr Strange suddenly straightened and floated back to his chair, all of them took that as their cue, and resumed their seats, trying and failing( Bruce and Tony) to not look like they’d done anything wrong.
The refreshments, turned out to be freshly squeezed juice and home made cookies. Having the smiling pair feed them, Phil was almost tempted to forget that Lucy Rogers was a criminal...almost.
***
“Mrs Rogers, though I’d love for this to be a social call,” For once he wasn’t lying.
“It is business, since your awakening, you’ve broken several laws and they add up to quite a significant amount of time in prison, but we as Shield, could offer you a deal to work off that time on the outside,” He was now using his very reasonable voice, the kind that convinced politicians to hand over money for projects they didn’t even know the names of.
“I won’t lie, it will be a stretch, but if we nip this in the bud now, you’d not only get a chance to do good, but also a chance to enjoy time with your husband,” Lucy Rogers looked at him, really looked at him, her eyes shining, delicate hands clutching Steve’s tightly. The whole room was silent, everyone waiting for her reply, but Phil had done this enough times to know the answer. Whatever her faults, Lucy Rogers wanted this.
Letting out a shaky breath, she placed a hand over her heart “Wow, you’d really do that for me, I’m so-so...” She wiped a tear.
“Lucy,” The tone, though admonishing, somehow managed to be gentle. Why did Steve sound disappointed, his wife had just agreed to join Shield, this was—
A quick kiss for Steve, and Lucy Rogers was off the couch and headed for the door at full speed. She dodged one of Strange’s whips, stepped on Tony’s sandled feet and wrenched the door open. She turned back long enough to give them an impish grin, and throw two tiny spheres at them, seconds later, they exploded.
***
Skunk flavored smoke bombs.
It would have been awesome if she hadn’t gotten caught in the blast. Swaying where she stood, Lucy took a moment to steady herself. Hearing the Avengers fighting to get the door open, she forced her legs to move, gagging with each breath she took.
She made it all the way to the gate before Strange broke through her hold on the door. He glared at her as much as someone choking on skunk could. In his hands he held the book she’d stolen, and right behind him was Steven.
It was long past due for her to be gone, and Lucy would’ve done just that, but the moment her hands touched the iron latch of the gate, she froze.
Steven?...
Close to him as she’d been, she hadn’t seen it, hadn’t sensed it. But the moment her hands touched metal, it was clear as day.
A spell, cast around him, instead of on, like a buttefly fluttering around a flower, never landing. But at some point,the spell-no, curse- definitely a curse, it felt a little too warm, too inviting, to be anything good, would land. And had she not spotted it, Steven would’ve been well into its grasp before she even realized. 
Face twisting in rage Lucy took a step towards the house. Then the rest of the group poured out and a semblance of control returned to her. Skunk smell forgotten, the grandstanding she was going to do forgotten, Lucy flexed her fingers, and in swirl of smoke, she was gone.
...Someone was going to pay.

Chapter Text

Wind in her hair as she sailed through the air, Lucy’s mind latched onto a single word...hindsight.
A beautiful word.
What was the saying that went with it? Ah, hindsight has 20/20 vision. Her smooth flight ending in a painful crash, Lucy found she wholeheartedly agreed. Staring up at an expensive chandelier, she barely had a moment to gather herself before she had to move. Dodging a kick that would definitely have broken her legs.
Libs, ever efficient, followed up the move with another kick, this one catching Lucy on the ribs and sending her skidding right into a giant pillar.
Who was this fiersome warrior, one might ask. The answer was simple.
Libs, was the Queen of England, or maybe it was Britain, wait no, Lucy was certain it was Buckingham( Barkingham?).
***
In all honesty, Lucy should have known to back off the moment she set foot on English soil. The whole place tasted like war, blood and too much tea. But she’d had two whole kegs of liquid courage in her, a week of no sleep, and an absolutely untrustworthy voice at the back of her head that came up with horrible ideas. The ideas, awful as they were, were made even worse by the fact that they presented themselves as dares.
I dare you to hitch a piggyback ride on the Hulk.
I double dare you to steal Punisher’s bike, and chase after Ghost Rider.
Betcha you can’t steal Coulson’s glasses...
The list went on and on, but from the three she could remember clearly, she’d gotten, a concussion, a crazed killer after her (thank goodness she hadn’t found Ghost Rider that night). The one positive thing was that Coulson’s glasses had x-ray vision, and she’d had them on when Steven had come to retrieve them, what a wonderful man.She’d also taken the time to study the curse on him. The moment she'd  gotten close, the thing, somehow aware that she'd spotted it had gone from fluttering around to roiling and hissing.

She'd vanished before it could start hurting Steven. And had decided(again) that a bar was a good place to plot.
Big mistake.
It was one thing to drink and plot. And it was quite another to plot while drunk.
Now her inner instigator had gone and gotten Lucy into a fight that would most probably end in her death.
***
Somewhere around her first keg of moonshine, she’d started spoiling for a fight. Then when she’d finished her second( take that science, pure ethanol and she was still alive andd kicking! Or maybe the alive bit was thanks to her magic), anyway, after the second keg, her inner pot stirrer, had made a dare that Lucy was honor bound to accept.
I dare you to insult the queen Libs’ late husband...low blow, yes. Not funny, yes. A one way ticket to the gallows, yes. So Lucy absolutely had to do it.
But she’d forgotten the words along the way.
When she’d finally taken down the palace security, she’d stared up at Libs, the woman looking old and frail as her inner guard shielded her. 
“ Your momma!” She’d yelled( perfectly copying the slang the youth were using), then she had to pause to throw up into one of the long black hats the soldiers wore.
With less alcohol in her system, Lucy’d realized she’d forgotten the highly inappropriate speech she’d prepared. So she’d gone for the old standby.
“Your dogs are so ugly, the vet slapped them when they were born,” Not her best work, and definitely not all that insulting, but at those words, something in the air had shifted. Rather than continue to shield the old woman, the guards had stepped aside then, and Lucy only had a moment to curse her war loving nature before the queen. Old and frail Libs, had crossed the distance between them in a single bound.
The first punch( no lady-like slaps in sight), had Lucy seeing stars. She’d managed to block the second one, but an elbow to the ribs had her doubling over. What followed, was up there with the top ten most horrifying moments of Lucy’s life. Turns out, the whole tea and biscuits thing was a cover, old Libs was a gangster through and through.
She’d only escaped by morphing into one of the woman’s dogs. Libs hesitating long enough for Lucy’s stubby legs to carry her to safety.
***
When it came to places one could go to escape homicidal monarchs, Wales was the place to be.
No one even batted an eye at the sight of a literal black sheep in a sea of white. At the height of her concussion, she’d bumped the same tree over and over, only to realize it was a car, and the people on board were watching with great interest.
When she’d finally pulled herself together and staggered across the road, the cheers from the van had been stadium worthy. Plumes of marijuana smoke briefly escaping the car as the occupants rolled down the windows to cheer her on.
That had been hours ago, and now back in her human form, Lucy still felt on edge. Cracking her knuckles, she cast out her senses, the whole of Europe coming into focus.
A simple thought and she vanished all the fish and chips in Libs’ corner of the world.A secondary enchantment had all the tea brewed there tasting like warm vomit, chunks and all. With Libs taken care of, Lucy moved on to random places across the continent.
Had the people of Luxemborg ever seen a tornado? What of France, did they know that the area where the Eiffel tower was built could have been volcano? What if  the Lamia walked the earth once more? Who came up with the kraken? No worries, she’d conjure one and send it to several places at once, she was pretty sure most people would recognise it on sight. The earth beneath her feet shook, the roots of every piece of flora in sight rebelling.
Job done, Lucy vanished in a puff of smoke, the smell of sweat, hot dogs, expensive perfume and rat farts, assaulting her as soon as she rematerialized in New York. 
Home, sweet home.
***
There was nothing quite like watching the sun rise from the Verrazzano Narrows bridge. Having made herself a swing between two supports, Lucy swung slowly. The cool morning helping to clear her head, the remnants of the bender she’d been on, almost completely gone.
In her pocket, her phone buzzed relentlessly. For the most part it was Steven, wanting to know if she was alright. Other times it was Stark, sending photos of the fight with Libs from various angles. Taking great joy in captioning each one. Even Shield had tried to get in touch, she’d almost been tempted to answer then, wondering how they’d try to use the situation to manipulate her. Luckily she’d stopped herself, she had bigger fish to fry. A snap of her fingers and she sent out a flare of magic, a homing beacon.
Right on cue, a foreign presence came into being directly in front of her, the woman’s flowing green dress shimmering in the morning light. Her golden mask hiding all expression.
“Good morning,” She said, her voice like thousands of tiny bells going off at once. Even her energy was alluring. No trace of venom on her, no hint of the absolute malice in her power. 
Faeries, what a nightmare.
Giving up on being sober for the conversation, Lucy summoned a bottle of tequila, one long swig, and she felt better prepared to play.
“Morgan Le Fay, as I live and breathe, do you mind if I call you Fifi?” Lucy’d never seen anyone express disdain without face muscles, but Fifi managed it.
“Do not call me that,” The other woman hissed, power rolling off her like waves of rotting flesh.
Shrugging her shoulders, Lucy took another drink, idly scratching at the dry blood on her jeans. Compared to Le Fay, all graceful and floating in the wind, Lucy, who’d gone pound for pound against Libs, and had then had deep conversations with sheep, was a mess. But staring at Morgan Le Fay, Lucy found she really didn’t care how feral she looked. She was only there for one thing after all.
“Keep your paws off my man,” She finally said, getting straight to the point.
There was a moment of stunned silence, then Le Fay, completely unbothered...laughed.
***
“Little girl, I have been around far longer than you can ever imagine. If I want ‘your man’ as you call him, then he is mine to take,” And that was it, the end of Lucy’s foray into peaceful dialogue. She  had a hand buried in Morgan’s hair before she was fully on her feet. The other one pummelling relentless jabs into her gut.  
A barrier came up, trying to block her, but Lucy would not be denied. Concentrating her power, she channeled it and struck again, forcing Le Fay to drop her shield in favor of  going on the offense. A hex caught Lucy’s cheek, but she brushed aside the smell of burning flesh, digging her nails into the  witch’s back. 
Both too frazzeled to maintain flight, they hit the water, Lucy’s nails remaining firmly in the other woman’s neck.
She clawed and she bit, hot on the other woman’s trail each time she tried to teleport away, giving her no chance escape. They ended up in the middle of a road, traffic swerving to avoid them. Legs on either side of Le Fay’s torso, Lucy grabbed her head and cracked it on the tarmac. 
The fight instantly went out of her, all of her earlier gracefulness replaced by slow aborted movements as she tried to get away.
Magic coated hand hovering over Morgan’s neck, Lucy, throat raw from a curse,spoke up“ Le Fay, if you don’t undo whatever it is that you did to my husband, I will destroy everything you love,” 
The other woman stopped struggling, her masked face looking right at Lucy.
“Love? You are mistaken, little witch, unlike you, I have no time to waste chasing imaginary feelings,”
“I will not be removing my enchantment, and should you try to kill me,...I’ll drag your precious Steven down with me,” Threat made, Morgan struggled to get up again, and this time Lucy let her go, getting to her feet and watching the other woman do the same.
While Morgan cast spells to get right herself and get rid of her wounds, Lucy stood back and watched. She could feel the air in her teeth, entering through the hole in her cheek rather than her mouth, the numerous cuts around her body stung, foreign magic trying to burrow into her. With a nonchalant wave, and a dismissive nod, Morgan opened up a portal, when she began walking towards it all her grace from earlier was back. She was almost through it when Lucy spoke up.
“Take one more step, and I’ll pay Elizabeth another visit, this one not so friendly, all those protective shields you have on her will not do her any good,” Morgan didn’t flinch, she froze, her whole body going stiff so fast she nearly fell head first into her portal.
She turned in a slow deliberate move, and when she spoke, her voice was deceptively light.
“ And why would that be a problem for me?” Laughing made her face hurt, but Morgan’s question was just too funny.
***
“Either you’re very stupid, or your brains have finally rotted through,” Morgan gave a delicate, shrug, still unbothered, clearly Lucy was going to have to explain the whole  thing in detail.
“Fifi...”A slight twitch, irritation breaking through the indifferent mask.
“Everybody knows you’re older than dirt. And old hags like you are bound to have descendants kicking around. It was simply a matter of finding them, and guess who has traces of your power in  them,” Morgan’s back straightened, but her magic remained tightly leashed.
“ That’s right, every single royal in Europe,” The tension went out of Le Fay, and she tilted her head.
“I have birthed and buried countless children over the centuries. I’ve watched their descendants die, bloodlines waning. You will find that your discovery, has no sway over me,” The statement was delivered with the clinical detachment of someone who’d long ago cut off their ability to feel. 
Something shifted in the air then, dancing over Lucy’s skin like goosebumps.
A lie.
Morgan had told a lie, and Lucy could taste it in the wind...oh.
Shaken by the new development, Lucy moved to wrap things up“Give it up Le Fay, I know you’re lying,” 
“You just spent the morning fixing everything I’d done. And when you did, you went to Libs’ place first. You chose to fix chips and tea, before going after the Lamia and all those natural disasters. Out of all your descendants, you favor her the most,” From the dark slits in the mask, Lucy could feel Morgan’s eyes taking her in, all traces of fake nonchalance gone.
“I underestimated you,”She finally said.
Shrugging her shoulders Lucy held out a hand.
“To be fair, I underestimate myself too, now, let’s go unwhammy my husband,”
“Afterwards we can braid each other’s hair and slip poison into our drinks. Fun times all around, I even have daggers perfect for backstabbing,” Though her tone was cheerful, Lucy was absolutely serious.

Morgan Le Fay had just made herself an enemy for life.

Chapter Text

Steve stared down at the speech in front of him. Reading the words, but not really comprehending. Perhaps it was the generation gap, making it hard for him to understand.
Shield wanted him to disown his wife.
“Just distance yourself  from her publicly, it’s not a divorce, more of a break, a public break,” Coulson’d said earlier that morning, face calm like what he was saying made perfect sense.
What on earth was a break? Either you were in a relationship or you weren’t, simple.
...I, in no way endorse Lucinda Rogers’ actions, and am deeply ashamed to be tied to her in matrimony. Her behavior does not reflect my values, nor the values of Shield...
Who’d actually sat down and written this? It was one thing to argue in private, but for him to go out there and admonish her in public... Unbelievable. They’d even shown him articles they were planning to post after his speech. A smear campaign available on every possible news outlet.
Marriage was a union. Rain or shine, and right now it was raining in the Rogers’ marriage. Lucy was robbing anything that moved. She’d magicked the robe off the statue of liberty, revealing a body that Tony informed him was thick? And turned the torch into a dildo.
“Lady Liberty is Sexual Freedom,” She’d told a reporter whom she’d kidnapped. Right before she’d releasead the woman so she could get into yet another fist fight with law enforcement. And that was just a few of her minor crimes. She’d been popping up in various felonies across the country, ussually working for the highest bidder, from the likes of Wilson Fisk, to a ten year old who’d hired her to summon actual ghosts for his halloween party.
Her offenses were varied and colourful, following no fixed pattern, making her difficult to pin down.The last he’d seen her in person, she’d been with Morgan Le Fay, a hole in her face and a dangerous gleam in her eyes.
“Funny story, Fifi here cursed you, now she’s here to uncurse you, isn’t that great!” She’d given him a thumbs up, her whole body vibrating with manic energy. Then she’d elbowed the woman, and Steve had felt a weight he hadn’t even known was there lift. The world looking a lot brighter. Lucy’d lingered for a few seconds after her companion had disappered, her power pressing down on him. Like the warmest hug Steve’d ever received.
She’d been on a rampage ever since, and now Shield, wanting to preserve the image of Captain America, wanted him to abandon his wife like a two bit politician begging for votes. Pity they’d forgotten to factor in Steve Rogers.
***
 “...yes, I am Captain America. But I am also a husband. I do not condone my wife’s actions. But she is still my wife, If I have to choose between the shield and her. I pick her...always,” With that, Captain America, no, Steve Rogers, took off his cowl, put down the shield and walked off stage. Back straight, head held high, like he hadn’t just thrown a bomb at the whole world.
The moment the door closed, he began running. He didn’t stop until he was on the other side of the city, and only then did what he’d done finally hit home. Curled up in a dirty, dead end alley, head on his knees...Steve Rogers began to cry.
He stayed that way for a long time. Shoulders shaking, his chest constricting, an endless stream of tears running down his face. Mourning the loss of a title he’d more than earned, angry at himself for not being fighting harder for it, despite knowing that letting go had been the right choice.
In their marriage( the long and short of it), Lucy’d always been the one protecting him, sacrificing for him. To outsiders it might have seemed like  she was nothing but a burden on him.
Golden, shining Steve Rogers, but none of them knew anything. They didn’t know the girl who’d struck a deal with the local cobbler, a pair of winter boots for a month of free customers. Not for her but for him, given in the winter when he was certain he would lose a few toes to frostbite. What did they know of the woman who’d followed him into the army? Her intel more reliable than any man they knew?
She wasn’t even remembered for that. Her name whitewashed in history as just Captain America’s wife. Agent Silvertongue recast as a man, with men who’d never even seen war reaping the rewards of her hard work. 
Where were all of them when Bucky died and she was the only thing keeping him going? How dare they expect him to-
His train of thought was cut off by the muzzle of a gun against his temple.
“Hands in the air...punk,”
***
In less than a split second, Steve had disarmed the thief, crushed the gun, and had the man up against the wall.
“That, was a very bad idea,” He told the red haired man,the man, eyes widening in recognition, struggled against his grip. He struggled for a few seconds longer, and then the fight went out of him.
“No matter how bad things get, stealing is not the way,” Steve told him, voice stern.
The terrified man, gave him one last wide eyed look, then his whole demeanor changed, fear giving way to a soft, welcoming smile.
“You were always too good for this world, Steven, even now,with your own problems you’re trying to help some poor schmuck,” What in the...
The figure suddenly vanished, leaving Steve grasping air, and there, a few feet from him, stood Lucy. Her pristine white suit clashing horribly with the dirty alley.
“Hello, Steven,” She said, and he couldn’t bare the sadness in her voice.
***
Hands settling around her coffee, Lucy looked at him. Green eyes taking him in, around them, the occupants of the coffee shop caried on as usual, no one paying any attention to the elderly couple by the window.
“You shouldn’t have given up the shield, not for me,” Reaching out with a wrinkled hand, Steve caressed her cheek, ignoring the whispered ‘aww’ from the girl behind the counter.
“What kind of man would I be if I just let them drag you through the mud?”
“A smart one, one who could carry on doing what he loved,”But even as she said that, she was leaning into his touch, the wrinkles around her eyes becoming more defined. A fond smile playing at the corner of her mouth, then she became serious, moving her head from his hand.
“I’m not that girl Steven. The golden one the history books painted to stand beside you. Everything you build I will try to tear down. Every wound you stitch together, I’ll be behind you, ripping it apart. You cannot build with me...I’m not that girl,” She repeated, giving him a pitying look, like he was an idiot who didn’t know he’d gotten a raw deal.
In answer he took one of her hand in his “You’re my girl,” He whispered.
“You’ve been with me through my darkest moments, you’ve shared in my victories. And when I was certain I was going to die, you came with, no questions asked. Shield, might not get it, the world might not get it. But so long as I’ve got you, I’m good,” 
Any other woman would be swooning at the declaration, but Lucy didn’t. Instead, she freed her hand from him, gave him a watery smile, and just like that she was gone. Seconds later, every phone in the vicinity was buzzing, and when Steve took out his, there she was. Reminding him once again why he loved and worried about her in equal measure, despite all the worry she caused him.
***
When it came to cameras, most career criminals were of one mind...they did not like them.  Apparently, Lucy Rogers hadn’t gotten the memo. Walking the streets, filming herself live, the woman smiled warmly, and Natasha was instantly cold. Sure enough, a few seconds later, all the cars behind her exploded. Unbothered by the civilians now screaming and running in panic, the woman began talking.
“Hey world!” She waved at the camera, stopping briefly to unchain a rabid dog, which instantly went after a hot dog vendor, the man throwing ketchup bottles to fend it off.
“I get asked this question a lot, so today I’m going to finally tell my story,”She said in the preppiest, most disqueting tone Natasha’d ever had. By now all agents were focused on the screen, with Fury and Coulson on either side of her.
“How did you manage to nab Captain America?” 
“Well...love potions, and a mind whammy,” Her big reveal was interrupted by an unexpected team up. The rabid dog and the vendor ambushing her from behind. The camera went out of focus, clattering as it fell, and for a whole minute only the sound of curses and growls could be  heard. 
The Lucy Rogers who resumed the stream was visibly more frazzled, with a wild look in her eyes. Behind her, the dog and the man were tied together by a glowing piece of rope.
“Where was I, ah. Love potions and magic,”
“I know, I’m super hot, but that level of righteousness and muscles won’t go for looks alone. I had to be more cutthroat,” The dog snapped its teeth at her, and she pretended not to notice, casually walking over to the hot dog stand and serving herself.
She took a moment to bite into her creation, eyes closing in pleasure. All around her there was chaos, it should have stolen attention from her, but everyone found themselves more intent on her.
Licking her fingers, she continued her story“So far, my charms have held for all these years. But I really wish I’d managed to turn him to the dark side,”
“But the man’s moral compass is just too strong. Every time I even suggest a little crime, and my control over him slips,”
“It’s a major bummer- imagine cracking a safe with that shield- but every marriage has its own problems, and that’s my cross to bear,” She finished the rest of her meal in two big bites, then both cheeks bulging, she waved at the camera, disappearing just as the sound of sirens could be heard.
***
“Is it possible she was being truthful?” Clint asked, and for the first time the Avengers actually saw Dr Strange laugh.
“Ignoring the fact that she just recently came into her powers, Lucinda Rogers does not have the right temperament for the level of mind control she’d claiming to be using,”
“If she were controlling Captain Rogers, he’d most likely be a vegetable now, she does not, and most likely will never, have the finess needed for such a skill,” When Strange said it, it made sense, and logically, they’d all known she was lying. But something about Lucy Rogers just made you want to believe what she said, good or bad.
It was like she told a story and it came to life.
“Her confession has created enough leeway for Steve to pick up the shield without too much drama,” Natasha said, trying to focus on the positive of the situation.
Fury nodded, brow furrowed, and even Coulson didn’t seem all the way relieved, and Natasha understood why. The press briefing, was meant not only to distance Steve from Lucy, but also to bring him closer to them. For them to have something on him, something that ate at him, enough for Shield to be able to push at his boundaries when needed.
You were able to do ABC, for the greater good, surely you can do DEF.
But Steve had stuck to his guns, and his wife had come through for him. The initial resistance from the captain had not been entirely unexpected. But Lucinda Rogers’  input was not planned for at all, especially in the way she’d gone about it, using the power of the people to protect Steve should he ever be accused of siding with her.
Behind all that crazy, it seemed Lucy Rogers was also cunning. Add that to the fact that her source of power, her necklace, was an unknown artifact. Steve Rogers’ wife was shaping up to be an unknown factor, and the unknown was always worrying.

Chapter Text

Find someone you look up to, and stick to them like glue. Tony’d read once in a random self help book. At the time he’d scoffed and thrown the book out the window.
He was Tony Stark. 
Billionaire. Playboy. Philanthropist. 
He didn’t look up to people, people looked up to him. Which was why he had absolutely no idea what to do when he found himself with a platonic man crush. On Steve Rogers of all people. The very same thing he’d scoffed at when his dad had it. Back then, he hadn’t understood, but now he had to admit he got it a little bit. More than the serum, Steve Rogers was good man, and somehow despite being married to a living tornado, the man was in a steady relationship.
And if Cap could make it work with the shipwreck that was Lucy Rogers. Then maybe, Pep would be willing to make it work with the shipwreck that was Tony. Very focused on his phone, and not at all stealing glances at Steve, Tony read an Ad Jarvis had forwarded, Lucy Rogers’ smiling face in it.
Looking for agent of chaos to do nefarious crime filled things with. Must be ready to throw down at any moment. Supporters of ‘the man’ need not apply.
He checked the number, it was definitely the one in Steve’s phone. Somehow she only ever answered when it was Steve calling. Every one else was redirected to a sewage collection company in Nevada, with very friendly staff. Once again, Tony looked over at Cap who was handing blankets and words of encouragement to the homeless, then he looked back at his phone, where Lady Rogers was on the hunt for a henchman.
Yeah, he definitely needed whatever juice their relationship was on.
***
As far as crimes went, breaking into the Stark tower, now the Avengers tower, to steal a coffee machine and some really good whiskey... was a bit low.
But business had been slow and Lucy needed to make a statement. Hopefully, an enterprising villain would see her enormous balls and be tempted to hire her. Dodging a few bullets and ducking into her van( also stolen), Lucy put the  alcohol and the machine on her passenger seat, a flick of her wrist and a seatbelt settled over her items. And just like that, she was on the road, her vehicle turning invisible just as the Avengers returned from their fight with a giant tentacle.
A few blocks away and she was visible again, the van swiftly disguised as an ice-cream truck. The cops drove right past her. Whistling a cheerful tune, she honked the horn a few times, celebrating the endless irish coffees to come.
Of course, no sooner had she settled on daydreaming, there was a mechanical beep behind her.
Hands off the wheel, dagger in hand, force field up, one twist and she was in the back, ready to tear apart her stoaway. The car swerved wildly, but she barely noticed, eyes on whatever was hiding behind the boxes. Another beep and the boxes fell away, revealing her would be attacker, Stark’s pet robot...Dum-E.
***
After her initial bout of panic, Lucy’d returned home, smoked a few joints, watched DUM-E spin in circles, and had come up with a brilliant idea.
“...if you want your robot to not come back as scrap metal, you’ll meet all my demands by midnight Stark...or else,”  She hung up then, waiting for him to stew.
Twenty seconds later he called back.
“I could wire you the money,” How could one channel smugness through the phone.
“Buuuut, for that you’d have to have actually kidnapped Dum-E,” He hung up and she stared at her phone in disbelief. Did he really doubt her nefarious plans. Ha! She’d show him, she’d start by taking Dum-E’s arm. Her phone beeped as a new message arrived, stalling her amputation plans.
It was video of her heist, one taken while she’d still been inside. During the mayhem, the door to Stark’s lab had opened, and after a few moments there was Dum-E, a robot about life, doing his thing. The poor thing was like a tiny puppy caught in a stampede, jostled this way and that as people ran. By the time he made it outside the poor thing was so disoriented he fell through the back doors of the van( left open in case Lucy managed to get her hand on something huge). Moments later, Lucy watched as past Lucy made a not so graceful exit. 
Right after the video ended, Stark called again.
“Dum-E is the robot equivalent of a puppy. If you hurt him, your hubby will cry, and he’ll see you as a puppy killer for life,” Pfft, like she actually cared if Steven cried, tch, as if, ha!Tch..Plus Dum-E wasn’t a puppy. She looked up to find the robot wrestling with her curtains, the beeps and mechanical whirs sounding like baby growls...oh.
Once again the phone was radiating smugness...she’d curse him into throwing up mankinis every time he tried to flirt.
“So, how about you return Dum-E, and you and I have a drink, talk about work, life, and making relationships work,” The last part was said in a rush, almost like he was trying to disguise it. Lucy’s mood soured further, had he seriously hijacked her ransom call so he could try and force her to talk about feelings...
“Goodbye Stark,” This time she ignored his calls, finding a can of spray paint and calling the robot to her. She painted his new name on him in hot pink, even adding a little skull to show that her new henchman meant business.
“Bad-E, let’s paint the town red,”
***
As it turned out, Bad-E, did not have a talent for crime. 
Couldn’t pickpocket with claw hand. Beeps and whirs weren’t all that threatening in a stick up, and was also directionally challenged. Something that was a major problem. The aim was to run away from cops, not towards them.
But the one area where Bad-E did shine, was as an OBP( Official Beverage Provider). Whether robbing a vault or a crypt. Bad-E was always ready with a drink for Lucy. There was something about not having to hold her own liquor that made Lucy feel like she’d made it in life. So she let Bad-E stay. All the while dodging Stark’s desperate calls to get in touch  and... talk. 
It was a good life, full of simple pleasures, until it wasn’t anymore...

Chapter Text

Part of the reason she’d taken Bad-E as a sidekick, not a hostage, was that she’d deemed him too cute to kidnap( nevermind that that was what she’d done). But it had happened, someone more cold hearted than her, had taken the little guy. They’d gone shopping for money, and somehow while Lucy’d been busy loading her bag, someone had snatched Bad-E, the poor little guy hadn’t even made a sound. Lucy had only realised he was gone when she’d tried to hand him the bag so she could strut away from the ATM looking superior.
Sitting a few feet from the recently robbed machine, glamour in place as she watched two squad cars arrive, Lucy spread out her senses. She caught a wisp of something but it was too faint to track. Just then her phone rang, the number, and the caller on the line, both unknown.
“Lucinda Rogers, villain extrodinaire, for love potions press one, for hexes press two, looking for a slow and painful death...steal my assistant” She’d started off with a cheerfully fake call center voice, but by the time she got to the last part her voice was cold as ice.
“Lady Rogers, apologies for my...line stepping...your assistant is unharmed, but for his safe return, I require something from you,” Even as he talked her magic was moving, when he’d called she’d felt him through the soundwaves, but now she knew he was still within the city. 
Voice deliberately light, Lucy replied“Sure thing bud, good help is hard to come by, I’ll give you whatever you want,” She was going to feed him his tongue. The idiot actually thought this was the way to approach her. Kidnapping her mostly, loyal, fairly stolen companion. 
Of all things, Lucy knew that even in the villain community, she was what you’d call easy.
Money equals Lucy Rogers, simple. You wanted her services you paid for them, but this guy thought he was above all that. She’d wring his neck slowly. Her rage cracked at the edges, red stealing into her vision. He would pay, nothing he could say would make up for what he’d done, she’d...
“I want a séance,” Oh. Her rage disappeared just as he magic finally located him. 
Not an idiot then, just very desperate.
“I don’t normally put out on the first date, but if you give me a name, I might reconsider, the truth and nothing but,” There was a long pause before the man finally spoke, and she could practically taste the would be lie forming.
“Erik, Erik Killmonger,” The truth and nothing but, a breath later she materialised in an art museum. Bad-E immediately bumping into her knees, nearly toppling a sculpture. In the other room, she could feel several newly dead bodies, but those were not her concern. The gaunt man currently staring at an old spear, his back to her, was.
She made to move towards him, but froze as a shadow detached from the walls.
The panther, moving with a grace reserved only for felines, butted its head against Killmonger’s hip. Erik however, paid it no mind, continuing to watch her from the reflection in the glass, the dark circles around his tired eyes more pronouced the longer the panther touched him. The cat gave a wide yawn, gleaming canines on display, its gaze settling on her. Flicking its tail lazily, it began walking towards her.
Nice kitty, nice kitty...
But the cat didn’t stop when it reached her, it kept on going. Its tail brushing the tips of her fingers as it passed, and that was when Lucy felt it. Power untethered, as old as the earth and older still, something that walked the land but no longer belonged.
A spirit...oh...in the next moment the panther was gone, travelling paths that could not be seen by the eyes of the living.

Chapter Text

Upon meeting a panther spirit that had no business roaming the earth, Lucy’d done the reasonable thing...she’d freaked out. Bad-E sensing her freakout, had freaked out too. Bumping her knees which sent her flying right into the bones of a mammoth, the whole thing toppling. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if the bones hadn’t suddenly sprang up, rearranging into an animated version of the long dead creature.
The moving skeleton, a demonic red glow coming from its eyes, had taken one look at her and decided she needed to be stomped on. She’d barely rolled out of the way, throwing up a shield around Bad-E as she ran.
“I am your maker...kneel!” As it turned out, the elephant’s great grandmother, did not like being bossed around. A giant tusk flung her across the room. 
“Unmake! Unmake!” Lucy yelled, hands glowing as she aimed a spell at the bones. The beast absorbed her blow, growing larger with the energy boost.
What on earth! She hadn’t done anything to deserve this. She didn’t even dabble with the dead...
Her mind, ever unreliable, chose that moment to remind her of the dog she’d brought back to life, after the wealthy owner had forked over half a million. But she hadn’t actually brought it back, the dog had been dead for a whole two seconds, with the soul still in the body. She’d merely reattached it, burned away the cancer and had aged it back a few years.
Why were the cosmos out to get her? Was it so wrong to be selfish in the face of profit? 
The giant skull trying to smash her into the wall seemed to think so.
Steadying herself, Lucy struck out with her fist. Half of the beast’s skull caved, one red eye blinking out.
Cracking her knuckles, she went for another hit, a bullet beat her to it. She turned and there was Killmonger, aiming with perfect precision as he dismantled the mammoth joint by joint. It turned to its new attacker, and the man, realizing he was out of bullets, grabbed the spear he’d been looking at earlier.
Watching him throw himself into the fight, Lucy decided to make a hasty exit. Why fight when people who actually looked cool doing it were available?
 Running over to Bad-E, who was still bumping over and over into the shield, she grabbed her loyal henchman.
Escape would have been nothing more than a thought. But looking at Killmonger, spear lost, now dogding the half there mammoth’s strikes, Lucy decided she didn’t need an angry cat spirit after her.
She raised her hand and the spear flew to her.
Eyes closed to center herself, it only took a moment for her gift to stick. Job done, she tossed the spear on the ground and caught Killmonger’s eye as he kept fighting.
“The spear will come, whenever you call it!” She told him, and with that, she grabbed Bad-E, and they were gone.
***
Eyes stinging, chest tight, Lucy gave Bad-E one final hug.
“Go on,” She told the little bot, gently nudging him towards the entrance of the Avengers tower. He made his cute little clicking sound and with that he was gone. She waited until he was inside before lifting the invisibility spell on him, her own remaining intact. She left without looking back, hating herself for doing the right thing.
But the moment she’d gotten him back, she’d known she’d have to let him go. 
Killmonger might not have hurt Bad-E, but someone out there could have and given time, they would. And the only blood Lucy was comfortable carrying was her own, the war had taught her that. She’d just let herself forget for a little bit.
Newly free of extra weight, Lucy wiped her tears and with a snap of her fingers the last of Stark’s stolen alcohol was in her hands.