23 || mojitos & burritos

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Caviar and cigarettesWell versed in etiquetteExtraordinarily niceShe's a Killer QueenGunpowder, gelatineDynamite with a laser beam-Killer Queen, Queen

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Caviar and cigarettes
Well versed in etiquette
Extraordinarily nice
She's a Killer Queen
Gunpowder, gelatine
Dynamite with a laser beam
-Killer Queen, Queen

Caviar and cigarettesWell versed in etiquetteExtraordinarily niceShe's a Killer QueenGunpowder, gelatineDynamite with a laser beam-Killer Queen, Queen

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

August 7th 2008
Vinum Bar, New York City

Nat, Clint, Phil, and I sit in the quinjet, as we head towards New York. Nat's sat in the cockpit, piloting the jet; Coulson is on his laptop, and Clint and I are practicing food toss. Marshmallows litter the floor- we aren't very good at food toss.

When the jet arrives, we head to New York's S.H.I.E.L.D HQ and start getting ready. Clint, Nat, and I get into our outfits for the bar; he's wearing a tux, I'm in a black and gold dress, and Nat's in a red mini dress. We look good.

Before I know it, we're on our way to the bar and my hands are literally trembling. Nat is going separately so as to not raise suspicions, so it's just Clint and me, with Coulson posing as our chauffeur.

Clint notices my shaking hands and reassures me, "Aria, you'll do fine.", I muster a small, very forced smile, "Trust me. Fury wouldn't have put you in the field if he didn't know you were capable."

I nod, "Yeah. I can do this. I can do this.", I tell myself.

"Well, you better be ready, because we're here now.", Coulson announces, stopping the car.

"Alright, see you inside, Barton.", I say, placing a hand on the door handle.

"I'll see you inside, Stark.", he nods, smiling reassuringly.

I take a deep breath and open the door, then step out onto the sidewalk. Putting on my most confident face, I stride into the bar. It's dimly lit and all the furniture is deep shades of velvet maroons and reds. The bar is quite busy, full of women in short dresses and men in suits. I see the man I'm looking for. Edward Armitage. He's leaned against the bar with a glass of bourbon in his hand. A group of his friends are gathered around him, all laughing far too loud.

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