Ghostwalker ▷ b. barnes [2]

xiii. america's ass

SAM WOULD HAVE DECKED LOKI RIGHT THERE, except she had manners. Or at least, she attempted to.

They stood over him and he raised his hands, face pale and a cut across his left cheek. Despite everything, a small smirk tugged at the corners of the god's lips.

"If it's all the same to you, I'll have that drink now."

"Drinks are for winners," she said. "Sorry."

His eyes flicked toward her. Sam shrugged, smirking right back. In a matter of minutes, Tony had him up in metal cuffs and three helicopters flew in from overhead. SHIELD. Sam couldn't help but watch them glaringly. They couldn't have come in sooner? No, they had to send a nuke instead.

One of the agents, a bald, portly man, caught her gaze. He attempted a nervous smile. She gazed emotionlessly back.

He looked quickly away.

"All right." Tony stood, brushing off his hands. "Good one. No standing around, I'm closing up this door for later. We earned and deserve shawarma."

Sam didn't know what shawarma was, but she was more than willing to try it out. Tony shot Steve a sideways glance, smirking widely.

"By the way, Cap, feel free to clean up."

"Very funny, Stark."

"Wasn't a joke, old man. But I see how it is."

"So uhh," Nat glanced at the agents, who carefully lowered Loki's scepter into a metal container. "The magic wand?"

"STRIKE team's gonna secure it."

"We'll take it off your hands." The portly man said, offering another nervous smile. Natasha only shrugged.

"By all means. Just be careful."

"Unless you want your mind erased," Clint grunted. "And not in a fun way."

Sam blinked. "Is there a fun way?"

"I'll tell you if I ever find out."

She grinned. "Sounds like a fair deal."

"We promise to be careful," the man said. Their small group stood, closing up the case, and started toward the elevator. Sam studied their backs, narrowing her eyes.

"What the heck is a STRIKE team anyway?"

"They do a lot of undercover missions," Nat said. "Clean up the messes Fury doesn't want to. The tall guy is Rumlow. Sitwell's the short one."

"He's a nervous dude."

She furrowed her brows, watching them leave. "Not usually. Alien invasion probably got under his skin. You know, like most alien invasions do."