An Elf, a Shield, and Too Many Questions

"Need a ride?"

"Sure," Lirael agreed readily, having no idea where their rendezvous point was.

Without hesitation, he placed his hand in Steve's outstretched hand.

The next second, he found himself being picked up.

Literally picked up.

"Why are you so light?"

Steve, holding him securely around the waist like one might grip a baby chick, gave him a puzzled glance.

Without missing a beat, he took a few running steps, leapt off the rooftop—easily several stories high—and reached up to catch Falcon's hand as he flew past, the two of them soaring between skyscrapers.

The sudden rush of wind slapped Lirael straight in the face.

The gusts tore through his overly long hair, leaving it a chaotic mess; some strands even plastered themselves across his face.

Completely stunned, Lirael remained rigid in Captain America's unyielding grasp, his body utterly stiff.

By the time they landed amidst the gathered Avengers, he still felt like a burlap sack someone had casually slung over their shoulder—stripped of all the dignity an elf ought to have.

"What a wasted opportunity." Tony shook his head with a look of profound disappointment as Steve set the elf down like a block of wood. "I thought you'd go for a more romantic pose."

Glancing at Lirael, who was still stuck in a daze of Wow, the sky is so blue, the ground is so vast, and Captain America's chest is enormous, Natasha Romanoff fell into an odd silence.

After a moment, she patted a bewildered Steve on the shoulder.

"Cap, when people said you might be destined to remain a blissfully single man forever, I didn't believe them."

That day, after all the Avengers—except Hawkeye—had taken their turn grilling the temporary member with nosy questions, they scattered under the stern gaze of Steve Rogers, whose disappointed "Captain America disapproves of your behavior" expression was enough to silence even Tony Stark.

Finally, with everyone's attention refocused, Stark stepped forward to get to the real business at hand.

"First, I think you all need to see this."

He held up a container filled with a clear liquid, its surface still streaked with dried blood.

Looking around to ensure all eyes were on him, Tony finally began to explain, clearly enjoying the moment.

"This is something I extracted from those creatures. Inside is a mix of methylphenidate, nikethamide, and doxapram, which can stimulate the cerebral cortex and activate more aggressive—uh…" He trailed off, noting the blank stares around him. "Does anyone here actually understand what I'm saying?"

"No," Steve stated flatly, shattering any hope Tony had of intellectual kinship. "Speak English, Tony."

"Fine," Stark sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "In simpler terms, it's a knockoff version of the Super Soldier Serum. Someone is dosing these creatures with it via transmitters, waking them from their dormant state and instantly enhancing their destructive capabilities. Based on the life-sign scans J.A.R.V.I.S. picked up, they all seem to have emerged from this building. And let me tell you, the number we've seen so far? It's just the tip of the iceberg."

He gestured toward the wrecked skyscraper before them, his expression dripping with distaste. "As for the owner of this lovely establishment, allow me to extend my warm regards to your old pals at Hydra, Cap."

Looking at the decimated structure, Tony's tone turned sarcastic. "'Cut off one head, two more take its place.' Why don't they just rename themselves Hydra Worm or Cancer Cell Inc.?"

"Hydra again."

At the mere mention of the name, Steve's face darkened with anger.

He pulled his shield from his back, his expression as resolute as ever.

"How do we stop these creatures from getting back out onto the streets?"

"That's easy," Tony replied with a smirk. "We storm this building, survive an assault by a few hundred genetically enhanced monsters, locate their incubation device, and shut down the transmitter controlling the serum injections. Piece of cake."

"Wow." Sam raised his hand. "Does anyone else feel like we're in Resident Evil? Except instead of zombies, we're fighting a bunch of juiced-up non-humans? And they're even uglier."

"…"

The group collectively ignored him, unwilling to entertain the comparison.

In the ensuing awkward silence, only Steve and Lirael seemed lost, their confusion written clearly on their faces.

Eventually, the elf sidled up to Natasha and whispered his question, genuinely curious.

"What's Resident Evil?"

"A movie," Natasha whispered back, her tone amused as she answered. "Once this is over, I'll make Stark rent out a theater for you two to catch up."

"Oh." Lirael nodded thoughtfully, adding another item to his mental list of things to learn about.

Thus, under the peculiar gaze of all the Avengers, Lirael and Steve nodded in unison, pulled out pens and notebooks, and earnestly jotted down the name that had just been mentioned.

"Wait, hold on—Cap, fine, but I thought no one from the younger generation wouldn't know this…?" Tony stared wide-eyed, clearly stunned by the elf's actions.

"My age is a bit older than you'd think," Lirael replied with a gentle smile. "It's just not so obvious."

Our combined ages don't even come close to scratching the surface of yours, Natasha thought, suppressing an amused smirk.

She said nothing, though, choosing instead to observe him with interest.

Clint, however, opened his mouth to retort but was promptly silenced by Steve, who clapped a firm hand on his shoulder, signaling him to stand straight.

It was time for Captain America to assign tasks.

"Let's move," Steve declared, quickly assessing the situation. "Sam's gear won't work well inside the building. Hulk's destructive power is too much. And Clint…" He glanced at Hawkeye. "You've been acting like you've got a concussion. The three of you will stay outside and snipe any creatures that try to escape. The rest of us will head in."

"Wait—why do I get sidelined for that kind of reason—"

Ignoring Clint's indignant protest, Steve turned his head to the elf standing nearby. "And you… uh, I don't think I've asked your name yet?"