4: First Impressions

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How long does it take for a proper dozen devil's food cupcakes to bake?

Precisely 18 minutes (this, for sure, I've tested religiously).

How long does it take for a girl, with neither super human abilities nor special qualities of any kind, to become an Avenger?

A week, apparently.

Its seven days of living in the Avengers' Tower when I find myself passing the last of the main courses onto the big communal dining table. The chandelier that hangs overhead is sleek and modern like the table itself—which is an utter work of art, might I add. It's a pristine glass fixture fixed with enough seats to house all the current Avengers (Thor included, but he's gone doing godly deeds in ungodly places).

Wanda Maximoff and Steve have both helped me to bring all of the dishes in from the kitchen across the way. It's Sunday at eight PM.  Apparently that means family dinner night at the Avengers' house. I must admit that it's rather strange to see all of earth's greatest heroes gathered in one space waiting to be fed. Antsy and quite sassy they talk amongst themselves while Wanda gives me a soft pat on the shoulder.

"This all looks beautiful, Sadie," she notes in that mysterious Sokovian accent. Her dark tresses are pulled down straight and the short sleeved shirt she wears is the same cocoa color of her eyes. She's been so incredibly nice to me since I've come, but everyone has. They've all been so welcoming... well, all but one that is. And his name is James Buchanan Barnes. Whatever the hell that man has against me, I've yet to discover. The other heroes seem plain ole jolly to have me there to cook and chat at their will, but Bucky has yet to use me for either of those accommodations. Honestly, I don't know what I could've possibly done to make him so impossibly peevish towards me.

"Yes, good job tonight, shorty," Tony's voice rings loudest from the head of the table. Leave it to Stark to save himself the most important seat.

"All 'part of the job," I laugh lightly. I step back just as Wanda and Steve take their respective seats at the big table. Suddenly I'm nervous as everyone's eyes glue onto me. Flanking Tony on either side are Pepper Potts and Peter Parker. Next to Peter, probably put there purposefully to keep the young teen from getting too riled up, is Bruce Banner. Natasha Romanoff (who's quickly become one of my favorite people to ever exist) is on Banner's other side. Next to Natasha is Clint Barton, of course, who is just as lovable as Santa Claus would be. Across from Nat and Clint are Vision and Wanda, who sits next to Sam then Steve then the silver haired Pietro. So that leaves Bucky Barnes to take the chair paralleled to the famous Captain Rogers—an empty seat to his left where the metal arm resides.

"I uh, hope you all enjoy," I awkwardly announce. Running a hand through my curly locks I make to exit the room as quickly as possible.

"Hold on now," Steve calls after me in that deep, fatherly tone. I grunt under my breath before turning back to face him.

"Did I forget something...?"

"This is family dinner Sunday," Steve says. He's smiling now as he gestures to the empty chair. "So I'd say you take a seat, kiddo."

My hands knot nervously in front of my stomach that's suddenly began to churn with unease. The smell of pork loin in the air is not helping to soothe my anxiety-driven nausea. "Umm..."

"You heard Capsicle," Tony pipes up from his lounging spot clear at the other end of the table. His dark haired head jerks towards that daunting, empty stool. "Go on and take a seat next to the Ice Queen down there. He won't bite." Tony shrugs a bit when Bucky turns to glare at him silently. "Well, maybe. Fifty-fifty chance."

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