This wasn't fair, Lucy thought to herself as she waited in the room she had been shown to. It was a soulless environment, as sparse and unwelcoming as any official interview room was. It actually had less personality than some of the cheaper hostels she'd stayed in over the years. A thought flew to the hostel she'd hurriedly booked herself into the moment she'd arrived - they hadn't been able to give her a bed straightaway, since even hostels have housekeeping time limits, but they'd taken the one bag of clothing and essentials Liv had helped her pack, securing it in their storage area until such time as she could claim it and take possession of the bed and locker in one of their loft dorms. At least, that was the theory. If these people were as efficient as they seemed to be, Lucy had no doubt that her belongings had been taken from the hostel and any record of her arrival in Brooklyn wiped clean. It wasn't a comforting thought.
She still wasn't entirely sure what she had done wrong, if anything. All right, so perhaps she could have been a little more circumspect with her enquiries, a little less frantic in her enquiries at the official buildings, maybe, but that was no reason to whisk someone off the street, was it' Except she hadn't been on the street, had she" She'd been on the verge of getting the meeting she'd been waiting for most of the day. Not with Tony Stark, who was officially far too important to bother with the likes of her but unofficially somewhere out over Coney Island helping facilitate a mass exodus of the civilian population wearing his brand spanking new Iron Man suit - no, Lucy had been expecting to meet with Pepper Potts, who seemed to have actually paid attention when the message was passed on that there was an English woman on the ground floor asking after Captain Steve Rogers.
Only barely a minute after the woman on reception in the Stark Tower had announced to her that Ms. Potts was on her way down, suited men had walked into the reception area and pretty much surrounded said English woman. Lucy had been startled, bewildered enough not to get a decent look at the badge that was flashed in front of her eyes, and too polite not to come with them when they asked her to. Well, they'd hardly given her much choice. They were clearly armed, and that enquiry as to whether she'd mind coming with them had sounded more like an order. She'd been escorted from the Stark Tower and helped into a secure vehicle - not a van, as she had expected, but a heavily armored car, whose windows in the back were so darkly tinted out, she didn't have the first clue as to where they were taking her.
When, after a heavy car ride that lasted twenty minutes and throbbed with unspoken accusations, she was guided out of the car, it was to be walked through an underground garage of some kind at speed and handed over to a different group of uniformed individuals, men and women this time, openly armed over the dark blue jumpsuits they wore. Down in an elevator too many floors to be entirely possible, Lucy had found herself escorted along what had felt like miles of blank corridor, until finally being walked into this room. Two members of her escort, a pair of stern-faced women, had relieved her of almost everything she had on her - personal identification and effects, money, even her coat, hat, scarf, and gloves - and had promptly left the room, audibly locking the door behind them.
That had been about half an hour ago, according to her estimate, which made it now about 6 o'clock in the evening. She couldn't time it accurately - they'd taken her watch away, too. Half an hour was a long time to wait in a featureless room with only a table and two chairs, and a small security camera. Lucy sighed, leaning her chair back on two legs against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. She didn't have the first clue as to what was going on, but she could make an educated guess.
Johnny had said there was a storm coming to the East Coast, expected to be the worst the state and city of New York had seen in centuries. He'd given her directions to a couple of hospitals that would have taken her on as additional medical staff to cope with the expected fall out of patients and emergency cases. But before doing that, Lucy had gone looking for Steve. She'd figured that if she made enough noise, bandied his name around enough, it would eventually get to his ears and he'd know she was in New York, at least. Early, of course, but then, he had to learn how impatient she was sooner or later. Preferably sooner.
She'd been asking about him at every public building she passed all morning, but it was only when she reached the Stark Tower that anyone had even hinted that they recognised the name Steve Rogers. She wasn't stupid enough to ask for Captain America, after all. Even then, she'd had to wait more than four hours for the message to be passed upstairs, and then another hour before the message came down that she was actually going to be seen.
So ....someone didn't want her finding Steve. Or perhaps it was as simple as someone not wanting her to find him until after they'd vetted her, cleared her of any suspicions they might have had. She had no idea what he might have told his mysterious superiors when he returned from Rhy'Din, but if her name had been spun into that mix, then perhaps they considered her a threat of some kind. The first vanguard of an alien invasion from another dimension. Lucy blinked, rolling her eyes at her own train of thought, and laughed aloud.
She was still smiling when the door opposite her opened to admit another officially suited gentleman - this one not wearing the skintight jumpsuit - who actually seemed relieved to see her expression stay roughly the same. She tipped her chair forward onto all for legs, not bothering to get up, and turned an expectant look on the man who had joined her. It wasn't, however, his voice that started the conversation.
"Doctor Lucille Agnes Broderick; born 1st of May, 1987; elder sister of Olivia Melisande Broderick, twin; illegimate product of an affair conducted between Howard Stark and Elizabeth Carter." Whoever the disembodied voice belonged to, it sounded as though it was reading from some kind of official file. But it wasn't that which had caught Lucy's attention, her eyes turned up toward the security camera as her mind latched onto the only unfamiliar information in that opening litany.
"You have got to be kidding me," was her only response, incredulous disbelief one of the healthier reactions to being informed by someone who apparently didn't want her looking at him that she was Tony Stark's little sister. She snorted, rolling her eyes. "Would you mind not spinning fairy stories and come to the point' I did actually come to New York to offer my help where it's needed, you know."
"And what would that help be, Dr Broderick?"
She rolled her eyes again, shaking her head. "I'm a doctor," she drawled, her sarcasm sharp in the face of her unseen interrogator. The man sat with her, she didn't even glance at. He seemed to be there only to intimidate her into doing as she was told. "There are a vast number of casualties predicted from this mother of all storms that is expected to hit you within hours. Gee, I wonder what I could possibly be doing here."
"That is what I am trying to ascertain, Dr Broderick," the voice informed her, remarkably calm given how much of an unknown quantity she was. "Perhaps you would like to tell me why you, as a representative of a previously neutral dimensional state, have come through a portal at such a dangerous time for us, and have been actively searching for one of our most remarkable individuals?"
"Previously neutral ..." Lucy trailed off, coming to grips with what hadn't been said. "I'm sorry, you think I'm here because someone in the Governor's Office on Rhy'Din sent me" I'm not a Rhy'Din native, or doesn't your little sheet of paper make that clear, with its made up statistics and frankly laughable background information' I was born here on Earth, I've lived most of my life on Earth. Stop being a moron and ask a sensible question, would you?"
There was a pause, and she could have sworn she saw the blank face of her suited companion flicker a little. Was that amusement at the way she was speaking to his boss, she wondered, or shock" Either way, it was a start, proof that he did have some human emotion buried beneath all that official blankness.
"Very well, Dr Broderick," the unseen owner of the voice sounded a little less patient with her now, "I'll ask you my most pertinent question. What is your intention toward Captain Steven Rogers?"
Lucy's eyes rolled yet again, her shoulders sagging a little as she sighed. "Look, I assume this is the special ops or whatever department he's attached to now," she offered up, attempting to be reasonable finally. "Which means he must have mentioned me when you debriefed him or whatever the jingo is. I'm here because I love him, and while this really isn't any of your business, I came early because I was made aware that there was a natural disaster coming that would prevent him from keeping his promise to come back within two weeks and fetch me. I'm not here to subvert him, or turn him into some kind of evil alien. That promise means a lot to him, and to me. I'm here to keep it."
There was another pause, but the quality of this one was less hostile. She'd apparently hit upon the right vein of answers to the questions being laid out before her. She could only hope now that what she said matched up with whatever Steve had said when he had gotten back here ten days ago.
"Thank you, Dr Broderick, that will be all for now," the voice said finally. "Agent Croft will escort you to secure quarters within this facility while the decision as to what to do with you is made. If you require anything, just ask."
"Oh, now, hang on -" But the quality of the silence had changed again, and Lucy realised she was shouting at a security camera. Sighing, she dropped her gaze to Agent Croft, who was now standing, one hand on the door handle.
"All right, Agent, I'm coming," she said wearily, rising to her feet. She had no idea where she was, how to get out, or even who had her. Those were questions she would need to answer, and soon. But for now ....she just hoped Steve was in a position to be able to prod for her release sometime before she turned sixty.
She still wasn't entirely sure what she had done wrong, if anything. All right, so perhaps she could have been a little more circumspect with her enquiries, a little less frantic in her enquiries at the official buildings, maybe, but that was no reason to whisk someone off the street, was it' Except she hadn't been on the street, had she" She'd been on the verge of getting the meeting she'd been waiting for most of the day. Not with Tony Stark, who was officially far too important to bother with the likes of her but unofficially somewhere out over Coney Island helping facilitate a mass exodus of the civilian population wearing his brand spanking new Iron Man suit - no, Lucy had been expecting to meet with Pepper Potts, who seemed to have actually paid attention when the message was passed on that there was an English woman on the ground floor asking after Captain Steve Rogers.
Only barely a minute after the woman on reception in the Stark Tower had announced to her that Ms. Potts was on her way down, suited men had walked into the reception area and pretty much surrounded said English woman. Lucy had been startled, bewildered enough not to get a decent look at the badge that was flashed in front of her eyes, and too polite not to come with them when they asked her to. Well, they'd hardly given her much choice. They were clearly armed, and that enquiry as to whether she'd mind coming with them had sounded more like an order. She'd been escorted from the Stark Tower and helped into a secure vehicle - not a van, as she had expected, but a heavily armored car, whose windows in the back were so darkly tinted out, she didn't have the first clue as to where they were taking her.
When, after a heavy car ride that lasted twenty minutes and throbbed with unspoken accusations, she was guided out of the car, it was to be walked through an underground garage of some kind at speed and handed over to a different group of uniformed individuals, men and women this time, openly armed over the dark blue jumpsuits they wore. Down in an elevator too many floors to be entirely possible, Lucy had found herself escorted along what had felt like miles of blank corridor, until finally being walked into this room. Two members of her escort, a pair of stern-faced women, had relieved her of almost everything she had on her - personal identification and effects, money, even her coat, hat, scarf, and gloves - and had promptly left the room, audibly locking the door behind them.
That had been about half an hour ago, according to her estimate, which made it now about 6 o'clock in the evening. She couldn't time it accurately - they'd taken her watch away, too. Half an hour was a long time to wait in a featureless room with only a table and two chairs, and a small security camera. Lucy sighed, leaning her chair back on two legs against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. She didn't have the first clue as to what was going on, but she could make an educated guess.
Johnny had said there was a storm coming to the East Coast, expected to be the worst the state and city of New York had seen in centuries. He'd given her directions to a couple of hospitals that would have taken her on as additional medical staff to cope with the expected fall out of patients and emergency cases. But before doing that, Lucy had gone looking for Steve. She'd figured that if she made enough noise, bandied his name around enough, it would eventually get to his ears and he'd know she was in New York, at least. Early, of course, but then, he had to learn how impatient she was sooner or later. Preferably sooner.
She'd been asking about him at every public building she passed all morning, but it was only when she reached the Stark Tower that anyone had even hinted that they recognised the name Steve Rogers. She wasn't stupid enough to ask for Captain America, after all. Even then, she'd had to wait more than four hours for the message to be passed upstairs, and then another hour before the message came down that she was actually going to be seen.
So ....someone didn't want her finding Steve. Or perhaps it was as simple as someone not wanting her to find him until after they'd vetted her, cleared her of any suspicions they might have had. She had no idea what he might have told his mysterious superiors when he returned from Rhy'Din, but if her name had been spun into that mix, then perhaps they considered her a threat of some kind. The first vanguard of an alien invasion from another dimension. Lucy blinked, rolling her eyes at her own train of thought, and laughed aloud.
She was still smiling when the door opposite her opened to admit another officially suited gentleman - this one not wearing the skintight jumpsuit - who actually seemed relieved to see her expression stay roughly the same. She tipped her chair forward onto all for legs, not bothering to get up, and turned an expectant look on the man who had joined her. It wasn't, however, his voice that started the conversation.
"Doctor Lucille Agnes Broderick; born 1st of May, 1987; elder sister of Olivia Melisande Broderick, twin; illegimate product of an affair conducted between Howard Stark and Elizabeth Carter." Whoever the disembodied voice belonged to, it sounded as though it was reading from some kind of official file. But it wasn't that which had caught Lucy's attention, her eyes turned up toward the security camera as her mind latched onto the only unfamiliar information in that opening litany.
"You have got to be kidding me," was her only response, incredulous disbelief one of the healthier reactions to being informed by someone who apparently didn't want her looking at him that she was Tony Stark's little sister. She snorted, rolling her eyes. "Would you mind not spinning fairy stories and come to the point' I did actually come to New York to offer my help where it's needed, you know."
"And what would that help be, Dr Broderick?"
She rolled her eyes again, shaking her head. "I'm a doctor," she drawled, her sarcasm sharp in the face of her unseen interrogator. The man sat with her, she didn't even glance at. He seemed to be there only to intimidate her into doing as she was told. "There are a vast number of casualties predicted from this mother of all storms that is expected to hit you within hours. Gee, I wonder what I could possibly be doing here."
"That is what I am trying to ascertain, Dr Broderick," the voice informed her, remarkably calm given how much of an unknown quantity she was. "Perhaps you would like to tell me why you, as a representative of a previously neutral dimensional state, have come through a portal at such a dangerous time for us, and have been actively searching for one of our most remarkable individuals?"
"Previously neutral ..." Lucy trailed off, coming to grips with what hadn't been said. "I'm sorry, you think I'm here because someone in the Governor's Office on Rhy'Din sent me" I'm not a Rhy'Din native, or doesn't your little sheet of paper make that clear, with its made up statistics and frankly laughable background information' I was born here on Earth, I've lived most of my life on Earth. Stop being a moron and ask a sensible question, would you?"
There was a pause, and she could have sworn she saw the blank face of her suited companion flicker a little. Was that amusement at the way she was speaking to his boss, she wondered, or shock" Either way, it was a start, proof that he did have some human emotion buried beneath all that official blankness.
"Very well, Dr Broderick," the unseen owner of the voice sounded a little less patient with her now, "I'll ask you my most pertinent question. What is your intention toward Captain Steven Rogers?"
Lucy's eyes rolled yet again, her shoulders sagging a little as she sighed. "Look, I assume this is the special ops or whatever department he's attached to now," she offered up, attempting to be reasonable finally. "Which means he must have mentioned me when you debriefed him or whatever the jingo is. I'm here because I love him, and while this really isn't any of your business, I came early because I was made aware that there was a natural disaster coming that would prevent him from keeping his promise to come back within two weeks and fetch me. I'm not here to subvert him, or turn him into some kind of evil alien. That promise means a lot to him, and to me. I'm here to keep it."
There was another pause, but the quality of this one was less hostile. She'd apparently hit upon the right vein of answers to the questions being laid out before her. She could only hope now that what she said matched up with whatever Steve had said when he had gotten back here ten days ago.
"Thank you, Dr Broderick, that will be all for now," the voice said finally. "Agent Croft will escort you to secure quarters within this facility while the decision as to what to do with you is made. If you require anything, just ask."
"Oh, now, hang on -" But the quality of the silence had changed again, and Lucy realised she was shouting at a security camera. Sighing, she dropped her gaze to Agent Croft, who was now standing, one hand on the door handle.
"All right, Agent, I'm coming," she said wearily, rising to her feet. She had no idea where she was, how to get out, or even who had her. Those were questions she would need to answer, and soon. But for now ....she just hoped Steve was in a position to be able to prod for her release sometime before she turned sixty.