With Tonyu0027s return, a certain energy had filled Avengers headquarters. It was palpable. There was an air of “This could actually work.”
At least, thatu0027s what Scott thought, as he sat outside taking a lunch break, unwrapping his taco. He had remembered the words Hank Pym had spoken to him years ago—“You never can trust a Stark.” But now, Scott had a completely different point of view. Maybe he could trust a Stark. Especially one who had embraced his own crazy time-travel idea and could actually make it work.
Scott set some tortilla chips on the bench, and put his drink down on a napkin to hold it in place. He carefully held the taco in his hands, ready to take a bite. Suddenly, wind started to blow.
But not just any wind.
It was like a gale. The gust blew the contents of the taco out of the shell, and onto the ground. Scott closed his eyes, unable to keep them open.
When he could finally open them, he saw what looked like a spaceship setting down on the lawn. Scott guessed that the reason it looked like a spaceship probably had something to do with the fact that it actually WAS a spaceship. He just stared at the craft, mouth agape, clutching the now-empty taco shell in his hand.
Then, coming out of the shipu0027s hatch, Scott saw what looked like a short (or tall, depending on your point of view) raccoon wearing a uniform, walking on two legs.
“Hey, humie,” the raccoon greeted him.
Then a blue-skinned woman with a shaved head and what looked like metal on her skull emerged.
“Whereu0027s Big Green?” Rocket asked.
Dumbfounded, Scott replied, “The kitchen, I think.”
The blue-skinned woman walked right past Scott, without even acknowledging him.
“Thatu0027s awesome!” Scott blurted out, flabbergasted.
The woman touched a metal dot on her jacket, and spoke. “Rhodey, careful on re-entry. Thereu0027s an idiot in the landing zone.”
Scott could have sworn the woman had called him an idiot, and frankly, he didnu0027t really care. It was all just so cool. Spaceships, talking raccoons and blue people. Whoa.
A moment later, Scott looked up to see War Machine—James Rhodes—coming in for a landing. The armored suit hit the ground, and Rhodey approached Scott.
It was then Scott noticed that Bruce had walked up behind him.
“Whatu0027s up, Regular-Sized Man?” Rhodey addressed Scott, joking. Granted, it was an accurate assessment given his current height.
At that moment, Scott was equally surprised to see Bruce silently offering him more tacos, to replace the one that had blown away. The green giant picked up two, and gently handed them to Scott.
They smiled at each other, and Scott noticed that Bruce had what looked like a travel bag slung over his shoulder. He wondered where Bruce could be heading as he once again tried to enjoy his taco.
* * *
The Guardians of the Galaxyu0027s ship, fresh from its return to Avengers headquarters, had blasted off on a special mission to Norway. Inside, Rocket and Bruce sat in the command chairs, as Rocket expertly steered the vessel toward its destination.
As they landed near the shore, they departed the ship, and found a pick-up truck waiting for them. They jumped onto the bed of the truck, Bruce taking up most of it. Then the vehicle proceeded to drive down the rough road toward a fishing village.
Bruce looked at the sign as they entered the small town. It said
WELCOME TO
NEW ASGARD
PLEASE DRIVE SLOWLY
Rocket turned his head to see Asgardians working on the dock, fishing. There were poles and nets, and fishing boats were returning with the dayu0027s fresh catch. As the truck rolled through the town, the Asgardians took notice. They remembered the green warrior who had come to their aid years back, during the time when Hela had tried to consume the Asgardians to increase her powers, and attack the remaining realms.
The truck came to a stop, and Rocket and Bruce hopped out.
“Itu0027s kind of a step down from the golden palaces and the magic hammers and whatnot,” Rocket assessed the small village.
“Hey, have a little compassion, pal,” Bruce counseled. “First, they lost Asgard, then half of their people. Theyu0027re probably just happy to have a home.”
As they looked around for a familiar face, Bruce was surprised to find one almost immediately.
“You shouldnu0027t have come,” It was a statement, not a threat.
“Valkyrie! Great to see you, angry girl!” Bruce was excited, as he stepped toward the woman he had recognized.
Valkyrie dropped a fish into a basket, then looked up at Bruce. “I think I liked you better either of the other ways.” His current appearance was a bit confusing even to those who knew him well.
Rocket was leaning against some baskets, trying not to laugh. Too hard.
“This is Rocket,” Bruce introduced his companion.
“How ya doing?” Rocket waved.
Valkyrie looked at him, then turned back to Bruce. “He wonu0027t see you,” she warned of his missionu0027s likely conclusion.