SUPREMACY / P. MAXIMOFF

visitor

Ana shoots from her seat and stalks towards the front door, Buzz and Kian on her heels. Buzz is popping his knuckles, anxiously twiddling with his fingers. The noise in the silence sets Ana on edge.

"Stop that," she snaps. Her hand wraps around the doorknob, poised to open. Buzz looks at her incredulously.

"So hero hunters are at the door and you are just going to answer them?" he hisses at her, attempting to shoo her away.

"What? And you think you can take them?" Ana demands, voice hushed. She slaps away Buzz's spastic hands, but he doesn't cease. They sit for at least ten seconds smacking at each other like children before Kian finally stops them.

"We don't have to take anybody," he tells them, pushing them away from each other. "We don't have to fight anybody. We don't know why they are here. We answer the door, we answer their questions, and they'll leave."

Ana squints at him. "You must have some experience with these guys then," she says. Kian shrugs.

"My motto is that as long as you don't act like it's a big deal, then it's not a big deal," he says, straightening his shirt. He looks past Ana for a moment before darting forward and retrieving Buzz's reading glasses. "Put these on though, they'll help with the disguise."

She does, and Anastazya feels as if she's looking through a hand smudged glass door. Everything is slightly out of focus.

There is a harsh rap on the door, shaking the door frame with its force. Buzz looks like he's going to puke. Kian glances sideways at Ana, a small smile on his face, but his fists are clenched so hard they are trembling.

"Maybe go pretend like you're cooking something," Buzz murmurs, plopping onto the couch and switching on their broken television. Through static, a cartoon plays without volume. Ana hurries towards their small—albeit surprisingly clean—kitchen. She didn't know how to cook. Maybe if she just stirred around sink water in a pot?

With her back to it, the door opens. Ana hears the mans voice and a chill runs down her spine. It was guttural and deep like he had smoked a pack of cigarettes a day for the last 20 years.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Edgar Boswick, I'm the deputy president of the Brooklyn Borough. How are you today?" He asks kindly. Ana wants to imagine a warm smile on his face, but can't seem to place it with the mental image of the man in her head. She stirs the pot more vigorously.

"I'm well, and you?" Kian replies smoothly.

"I am well, thank you for asking. My team and I are polling with residents of the Brooklyn Borough about some recent disruptions in neighboring boroughs. We are just trying to gauge our response based on our residents level of concern. May I ask you a few questions?" he says. Ana peeks over her shoulder to catch a glimpse at the man. He is well-dressed, in a button up, slacks and sharp dress shoes. His hair has silvered with age and is styled neatly. He is clean shaven as well, with a clipboard secured in his hands. He is gripping the board tightly, far too tense for a man who is simply polling his residents.

"Of course you can sir," Kian tells him, leaning strategically against the doorframe so the Doctor can't get a good look inside.

"First, on a scale of one to ten how safe have you felt since residing in Brooklyn?"

"About a solid seven and a half. There's just some particularly disruptive homeless men a block down that make it hard to walk home alone sometimes," Kian replies, awkwardly shuffling his feet. Ana has to keep from cringing. Fury had taught her lots of things about human nature during her time as a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative. One that had stuck with her is that when people lie, they talk too much. They add unnecessary detail. Kian was most definitely talking a little too much.

The man pauses. "Noted. Second question, have you heard of the alarming incident that occurred in Central Park earlier this week?"

Ana's blood ran cold.

"No, I haven't."

"Most of the onlookers had been paid off, but a few must have escaped unbribed. The gossip has reached city officials. A currently unidentified person was seen attacking innocent civilians near the park with their...gifts."

They weren't innocent, they were monsters.

"That is awful. But, I didn't know Midtown Manhattan was apart of your jurisdiction?"

"It isn't," The man replies swiftly. Ana can imagine that his jaw tensing. "But the safety of the borough is critical. It seems in current years that New York City's gifted people have and will cause unprecedented damage if they remain unchecked. Unprecedented damage and danger that can trickle down to every part of the city. As deputy president of this borough, my policy agenda remains crime control, and no individual is exempt from that. No matter how powerful."

Ana can hear the swish of Kian's jeans against the doorframe as he shifts uncomfortably.

"I see."

"Yes. So, my last question is if you would be willing to sign a petition to bring to the city council people that would require the gifted individuals of our city be registered in a public database, so we can prevent tragedy from striking again like it did in Central Park."

Tragedy. Maybe to others, she was a monster.

"Of course," There is a pause as Kian scribbles down his name on the mans clipboard. "Is that all?"

"Yes sir, thank you for your time."

The door shuts, tearing Ana from her fuming. Her hands grip the pot of water and she stares with vacant eyes as it boils.

"The fuck would you sign that petition for? Isn't that really bad for us and the super human girl we are hoarding in our spare room?" Buzz shouts at him. Kian shushes him, pressing a gentle finger to his lips as he leans himself against the door, listening for movement. After a moment, he sighs.

"I don't need that man thinking that this household will give him any trouble. And I don't need him to come back," Kian tells Buzz. "Besides, I don't think that proposal will ever pass. It's a direct invasion of privacy."

"It's a hit list, that's what it is," Buzz affirms. "Fucking freaky."

Kian appears at Ana's shoulder.

"What are you boiling water for?"

Ana releases the handles and watches as the rolling boil slows into a meager simmer and then into nothing at all. Her ears prick up as she hears the creaking of the stairs as the man goes to visit Buzz and Kian's upstairs neighbors. Kian must notice her unresponsiveness, but when he goes to speak again Buzz cuts him off.

"That wasn't that bad," Buzz sighs, finally switching off the TV and standing to his feet.

"Yeah, that's because you got to sit on the couch and do nothing," Kian snorts, shoving him playfully. "Luckily the Doctor was playing politician today, not vigilante."

"Ana, do you know who that was in Central Park they were talking about? It's right next to the tower, isn't it?" Buzz asks, leaning against their rickety dinner table. Ana can't tear her eyes away from the steaming pot, her pounding heart rattling her bones.

"Yes," she grits out through clenched teeth. "I do."

"Well?" Buzz demands. "What kind of shitty, two-bit hero goes around killing innocent people in broad daylight?"

Ana whirls on him, face contorted in an indescribable expression. Kian takes a step back from her. Ana stands staring at him for only a moment more before shaking her head. Kian and Buzz already knew too much, they were already too close to all of this.

She needed to leave, and soon.

"Didn't you hear Kian? That's an invasion of privacy."