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The White Dove Pt 43 - Bee Happy

@devilishminx328. @theincaprincess, @lilith15000, @jesevans, @jiminapickle

The White Dove Masterlist

7 more chapters left, and before I get into posting the new version of the Poke series that follows this it’d be really awesome to hear what you guys think of this series. Got a bit deflated seeing that out of the long series I’ve been putting my all into this year the ones that got the most attention were one shots written within the past few months. And if you do enjoy my one shots for their wild, crazy and adorable ideas my series have so many more than them and I tend to have a corvid sense of mind, attention for a story I may or may not be stuck on can go a long way to helping me shake loose some ideas to keeping my stories going.

Trust me when I say I write my stories for me, no one loves my 100+chapter monster sized series like me. Feedback and brainstorming does help considerably to help me finish those as I seem to have a problem containing my army of plot bunnies that explode into stories. Really it boils down to the fact that over the past three years I’ve had barely five weeks off through the entire pandemic and its onset of panic, as I’m an essential worker. I write to stay sane, even if my ideas often seem illogical and beyond out there. So if you like it/ hate it/ just want to spam my ask box to distract me on my work breaks feel free to let me know. Hope your corner of the world is turning smoothly and safely, getting cold out there, and rainy in mine. :)

*.*.*

Straight up to block a manual on a big block engine your forearm rose at Buster’s warning to the attack otherwise signaled by a shout of, “BEE!” Out of the famous Boxer came the uncharacteristic outcry. “IT’S IN YOUR HAIR!” He all but screeched in a tight grip of your arm to jerk it lower readying to swing the book again with that hand.

Before the five bodyguards fanned out around him, bulky over six foot tall and two times broader than him, could take hold of you to tear the bees from your hair hard into his cheek you landed a blow. Launching him off his feet for the press spectacle of the week as the heavyweight champ got knocked out cold by a girl over a foot smaller than him and not even half his weight. Tires gave off a screech and a door was heard to open.

“They’re hair clips, you moron.” The men being filmed by passers by who had been filming the famous face stood in place as you asked them, “You gonna pick up your trash?”

“Hey,” was panted in your glare laced turn back the way you were aimed from Happy Hogan who had gotten out of the car in a wish to help you against the bodyguards to the fighter who was out cold and unresponsive on the sidewalk. “There you are, I got the car here.”

“Okay,” you said softly and he guided you without touch around him and the car to sit in the passenger seat to the start of irritated honks for his car parked the wrong way on the street. Stepping away from the mini medley of a few whistles, claps and jeers from the crowd of passersby.

“Ya, ya, I hear you.” He said hurrying to get back in the car and buckle up to turn the car around asking as he drove, “Where you headed Pluto?”

Stealing a look your way as you adjusted your book filled school bag atop your lap while your fingertips adjusted the ends of your layered floral skirt with sheer petal shaped panels laid over your stocking coated legs. Off the shoulder of the arm that blocked the book your open maroon cardigan slumped to show the sweetheart top to your sleeveless dress that would easily fit under your uniform later. The color on your cardigan matching the shade of your wedges that had straps all down the tops of them secured by buckles to match the buttons on the cardigan.

“I wanted to thank you. Took me a good couple months to get my lungs up to snuff again, not counting my gut from the internal bleeding. But I’m here thanks to those shots of yours. Tony’s had me all but on bed rest to give me time to get back up again out in Sacramento, just got back and saw you, had to stop and give you a lift.”

“Well you didn’t have to thank me. I was going to get some food before my shift at a candle shop.”

He nodded, “I’ll drive you, what were you thinking, burgers, Mexican, soul food?”

“There’s a nice lady at an Applebee’s nearby whose grandson needs a new semester of payments on a laptop he’s loaning for school. I have a few bucks for the donation tin.”

“How’d you learn to throw a punch like that? He’s got to be double your weight at least and you stopped his swing like it was nothing.”

“Learned to fight from a three time welterweight champion, that moron is useless in a fight without a parade and fanfare around him. Man’s terrified of a creature that helps to keep the planet alive and tried to hit a child in the head at the sight of one, biological bee or hair clip alike.”

“Welter-,” he glanced at you, “Bucky, right?” making you look his way, “Cap says you were a student of his. I’ve looked up his record.”

“Right.”

“Boxing’s changed a lot since those days. In the pictures he has bulked up a great deal.”

“He got Stark and Erksine’s serum too, but he got it while locked in a POW cage.” Making him flinch another glance your way. “I’m his best student and most likely his last. After all, can only go down from here.”

You said making him smirk, “My boxing coach said the same thing about me.” Accented by a chuckle from him, “And if that guy tries to give you a hard time legally I can have Tony on him in an hour.”

“Man in unconscious thanks to a girl. I would love to see him make a media circus about this. Like the Bee Movie come to life, mid trial sharing the false narrative that bees all deserve to be exterminated and feared by everyone not just those with allergies. Followed by a glaring slow motion play by play of the swing of his hefty book and the punch that leveled him after sure to ruin his career and reputation for the rest of his career if he didn’t crack his skull on the sidewalk.”

“Then again only people able to get past Tony would hit the major wall that is the US Military. Has anyone talked to you about those shots of yours?”

“I haven’t even graduated High School yet. No they prefer MD’s or PhD’s. All I do in my parents’ study is gate keep the machine that makes the compound they designed. Doctors there handle the rest.”

“Well clearly you are a brilliant person, came up with those shots, or Misique did, she uses those too.”

“I make them, my allergy shots too. A more generic take on my parents’ work, they’re actually mostly made by bee byproducts.”

“This one, right?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yup.”

Up front he parked and walked with you inside, looking around at the faces of people who seemed to recognize you by frequency of visits and not by name while his face to them seemed more familiar but in an uncertain way. Orders were given and atop the page your notebook was open to on top of the couple books that made your bag awkward to lay comfortably on your lap he saw the first of a slew of dinosaur comic sketches that made him smirk.

“You make comics?”

Briefly you sighed unwrapping the straw to go in your drink that had just been brought to counter his lemonade he ordered. “I have to write a speech for graduation. Logically my brain can only focus on comics.”

At that he chuckled and started to share a few of his own miseries on public speeches gone wrong and how he barely remembered his graduation, just the fire that ruined the after party and prom as well set ironically by the homecoming queen. The story of how he became a boxer led to how he met Tony after his career ended to be his bodyguard soon growing to best friends and even finding out they were Mates. Including several examples of his speeches he did miserably on. In a wave of his hand over his meal he said, “You know for all the ego and swagger I can’t think of a speech or invention he hasn’t second guessed himself on. Why he misses most of his speeches actually.”

Before he put the car in park outside the candle shop he said, “You didn’t have to save me,” making you look at him, “I know, I didn’t have to give you a ride or pay for lunch either. A lot of people would have ran away.”

“I’m not scared of people dying. Death is a walk we must all take to move onwards to our next path. You healed well is what matters.”

“And you’ll be fine, when in doubt try writing a short speech on dinosaurs and gradually shift it away from being about dinosaurs, or be fun, leave the original version could be one of a kind.” With a nod you climbed out of the car at his words of encouragement to let him get back to where he was needed. He felt better in having interfered and said something to you. This didn’t make you even, not in the slightest, but at least it answered the gnawing urge to find the girl who saved his life and kept him company until he was taken by the professionals to continue the efforts given to prevent further damage or time to allow him to slip away.

Inside the back room at the shop into your stewardess like uniform you eased with thoughts that turned from your regrettable speech looming on the horizon back to the phone call you had to make. Bees, on the news the video blowing up online were the joking focus of the clip. The prize fighter laid out after a try to beat a young woman with a book to kill what he took as a live bee. He was still in the hospital and being questioned by Detectives after Gwen had confirmed for her father the obvious identity of the child in question targeted by such violence.

Eddie as your closest adult had been contacted and on his own made a call to Matt Murdock in case the fighter tried to take this to court, if the courts would let him. Already for the attack he had been dropped by his fight representatives, two sponsors and was on the verge of being dropped by his management team. Double handedly he held the book he threw his weight into swinging at the at least momentarily unknowing young woman reading off a notebook.

Late and on the way home after your shift was over time lined up and you dialed the number to the company where you got the supplies for your sail. With the subway stop in sight your phone was raised to your ear in the sound of a second ring of the line. A man’s voice answered the line in Norwegian answered the line. “This is Thor of X, how might I direct your call?”

“Hello, yes, this is Pluto Pear I was calling about an order I received.”

“Viscountess,” he said alerting others inside the office to whom he was talking, “Yes, there is an issue with your shipment?”

You could hear the shift of your call being put on speaker as the manager you had met quietly eased into the room. “Not an issue on your end. I repaired the mast and had to extend on the length more than I anticipated so now the new dimensions had my original miscalculation all the more obvious. So I am not certain if this is the proper channel to go about this but I was wanting to request more supplies.”

“You have called the proper number I can put that order in here. Can I ask how far through the sail the first shipment lasted?”

“A little over half of what I require.”

Smiles spread through the room as the man confirmed with a few hushed nods and written notes from the manager that had him reply, “We are all proud to continue help on the project of such a sacred ship. We shall send a double of the original order to you swiftly and shall go personally assemble the order as soon as I input it into the system.” Thanks were broken off to awkward silence as you looked at the phone as they hung up to input and complete the order.

Months since the delivery more than once they had been found wondering or even asked if they had any news on the progress of this mysterious sail. Now they knew at least you were halfway through and were going to be sent more than enough to cover whatever length of sail the ship required. Still there was no clue as to what the design was but the press could take the tip they did get and try to work from there.

All they knew was the tip that it was going to be handmade at least partly by you. So lists of sail making companies within New York and states around it had been compiled with lists of reporters and interns to make cold calls to see if any of them were helping with the process and could be coaxed to send a hint of the design or shape at least. And as they continued that the King would be invoiced and contacted for the delivery, for which one of your planes would be used to deliver the order as soon as possible to not put off any schedule arranged for the task.

Eddie at the subway platform stood in wait for you, having just come from Murdock’s office he looked you over asking about the phone in your hand. “Someone call you about the punch?”

“No, um, I called about the sail materials. They said they’re sending double the first order.”

His brow arched up, “Double, as in a second similar amount? Or double double in one go?”

“I have no clue. Suppose we’ll see when it gets here, they said they would send it swiftly. That is a lot of wool if it is double.”

“At the worst you’ll have to make us some blankets and sweaters and anything else to use up what is left over.” Making you giggle to yourself.

“Well at this rate hopefully there won’t be much left over, especially after the weatherproofing test swatches.”

“How’s the hand? I talked to Murdock and he’s got an ear out in case anything stupid happens.”

“Knuckles are a bit sore, but he tried to hit me in the head with a book on big block engines, hand to swat someone’s hair I get, but whacking a stranger in the head with a book is beyond reflexive.”

“Happy was there?”

“Ya, he was impressed with the punch. Thanked me and paid for lunch and dropped me off after. Also talked a bit on his graduation and his own trouble with speeches, Dean Morita said I have to get a speech ready for graduation.”

“Whoa,” he said, “Top two huh? Do you have a hint of what you might say?”

“Not a clue,” you said making him smirk and loop an arm around your back to kiss you on the top of your head.

“It’ll be endearing and wonderful, I just know it. And we’ll see how the idiot tries to face things in the morning.” Taking you home to fix up something to eat and have a film playing while he worked on a story to follow up the exclusive you had given him by texts that beat other news outlets and you worked on some school work.

Torn ligaments in the neck of the boxer had him in a neck brace and cuffed to a hospital bed awaiting word of the charges. Injuries his team tried to pose as old hat had flared up due to the blow, not caused by the altercation to save face. An early morning buzz on your intercom turned your focus from the dishes you were doing after you had eaten the breakfast you had whipped up. “Who is it?” you asked pressing the button on the speaker box by the door.

“Captain Stacy and Detective Dodd, can we come up and talk to you?”

“Sure, top floor.” The second button to let them in sent a buzz to let the casually dressed duo make their way up the several flights of steps to find you waiting in the doorway in a baggy flannel and knee length sweats. “Hello, I have muffins, or some juice?”

Mr Stacy entered first with a grin and accepted the offer as the female detective behind him shared in a glance over the crowded apartment due to the loom system and slowly rotating spools hovering over platforms. She confirmed her own choice of juice to his internal sense of happiness as for how you had furnished your place to suit the personality he knew you had.

Over the top of glasses filled with juices saucers with muffins on them were rested on your way to the green sloped couch they chose to sit on. Bruises on both your knuckles on the punching hand and the hand shaped bruise on your other forearm visible by the sleeves rolled up on the baggy shirt had their eyes linger on them.

“Thank you,” they both said accepting their saucers and juices before you shifted to tuck a leg up and sit on the cloud shaped couch facing them. She asked, “You aren’t eating?”

“I just ate. I was doing dishes.” You answered folding your fingers together across your lap.

Mr Stacy said, “Well, Pluto, we came to talk to you about the Crazy Horseman guy who was filmed attacking you on the street.”

“I’m sorry, he calls himself the Crazy Horseman?” you asked making the duo chuckle. “Mr Hogan knew who he was but didn’t say his name. I suppose if that is his name hitting strangers with books in on brand then.”

She asked with a serious expression on her face, “The video shows he just approached you and swung the book in his hand, was that the beginning of the attack?”

“He shouted about my bee hair clip and I look up and a book is coming at my head. Not much to add to the video.”

Several questions came to fill out the event to add to what Happy had been questioned about confirming what they knew already, but now with pictures taken of your bruised hands and forearm. Mr Stacy asked, “Are you staying home today?”

“I have some more work to do on a paper but I have an afternoon shift at the book shop later.”

And Mr Stacy said, “Let us know if anything else happens or anyone bothers you, or you do end up going to the hospital. We’re gonna do what we can to keep him locked up and away from you.”

He gave the assurance and coated in some foundation your bruises were disguised a bit as you continued the process of shifting the store to ready for the impending back end of the winter season theme boxes. Several religious and holiday based books were arranged to the first sound of radio updates of the Christmas celebrations being set up within the city with reminiscing of years prior. Delivery of trees to decorate were claimed to be easier now that Tony Stark was Iron Man and did not require to shut down streets to drive the trees in by tradition like his father did decades prior.

Across an open notebook during lunch by the time you had to head back sketches and notes were made of the transporter you had used on Svartalfheim. The runes you learned so far in the translations of the fables helped to fill in the translation of the page of Asgardian runes on the menu alongside a few more from dreams of designs Yggdrasil had shared over the years. Woven branches on your sail design already had a single one standing out and the time after your shift would be centered on pouring over those notes again to see what your brain could stir up.

A crowd of people who had come to bother you about the charges against the fighter did linger a while at your job, unsettled greatly at your silent stares up at them to when a security guard had called cops to take them in for intimidation against a witness. Only to have more people drop by but be forced out of the building by Susan Storm with an invisible barrier flinging them out into the street. “Hello Pluto,” she said with a kind grin brushing her blonde ponytail off her shoulder to drop over her back.

“Hello, Miss Storm.” You answered continuing to unload a new crate of books inside the children’s book area on a low shelf. “Need help finding a book?”

“The boys were curious on how you were doing. Heard you got attacked yesterday.”

“I trained with a boxing championship honestly I can take and give a punch.” You said making her shift her legs to crouch in her pencil skirted dress at your side.

“We also know you’ve been to another dimension Chickadee is from. Reed is curious as we all are of what that was like. What we could learn. Why Howard Stark was so important for her to save so many times.”

Up to her eyes yours swiveled to land on them to say, “Everyone is important. Everyone has a role to play. I’ve shared what I’m willing to. Digging into the aftermath of the atom bombs only took us so far and society learned nothing, we still focus on nuclear energy. People are so swift to bypass that war is bloody and the bodies of those sacrificed for it to see the supposed benefits we reap.” You stood up to carry the next group of books to the shelves a few feet away causing her to rise up as well looking you over curiously. “No matter what I tell you the world will justify use of something that could ruin the planet and countless lives to be the one to bring about a new power source.”

“There is a new power source?” she asked and you turned to look at her.

“I found an Asgardian ship out of the bottom of the ocean powered by an engine wrapped around the core of a star,” you said causing her lips to part slightly, “There is always another power source, and you don’t have to leave the planet for it. Just because the human race imagines to have answered all the pertinent questions concerning our planet and its past our people and the planet will suffer because of it. You want to take power sources from other people, I couldn’t have imagined such a brilliant mind had grown so complacent to stop asking questions.”

“And what sort of question is he supposed to be looking for?”

“Why Earth?” you said plainly turning to grab another set of books when you put the ones in your hand down. “Asgardians, Krulls, Kree, that purple Thane guy and his bird faced buddy. Countless races have been here, to this planet, why? The planet is alive, it speaks, and no one listens. It has the answers, but I suppose if he wants to explore space and ignore the planet and go mingle with other races then more power to him he can find the answers on his own.”

“Why would you keep what you’ve seen to yourself?”

“How many people have you watched die?” you asked gaining a voice crack of a response. “Do you know the extent of cruelty humans will aspire to for answers? I spent eight years being put to that question of how much cruelty I could take. I know exactly what so called curiosity and hope for better humanity costs. What I tell you results in human test subjects to the tune of billions of humans on this planet unwillingly to answer for curiosity of what could possibly be gained. What I tell you has a price, and it’s not some printed word of a consequence I know the pain, I bled, I burned, I screamed and cried for years after getting free. I know, what it costs. And I will not release that on innocents.”

“It can’t be that bad.” She said weakly making you glance back at her a moment.

“Next time I get the chance to go there I’ll do my best to time it near you and give you a shove. Then we can see what you’d be willing to release on the planet so Reed can slap his name on it.”

“Why are you so upset about this?” she asked following you around a shelf only to reach out and use her thumb to smudge the thin layer of foundation to reveal the bruise on your forearm. “You’re hiding bruises?”

“Children are more popular here during winter seasons. No reason to scare them.”

“You really won’t tell us?”

“You know that scene with Gandalf when he says he can’t carry the One Ring for Frodo and he says for what the ring could access through him would be far worse no matter his good intentions and wishes to wield it for good? I don’t make weapons, and Reed out of past experience has given his tech to the military. The world can see what they are capable of with a bigger stick than the other guy. People are important no matter who it upsets.”

“Does your arm hurt?”

“My knuckles hurt worse than my other arm,” you said making her look to your other arm seen mostly due to the blouse with three quarter sleeves you had on under your apron that shifted to show slices in your worn jeans and the neon leggings underneath. Even your heeled boots you had on seemed to be on their last legs making her feel worse about pressing for details as you clearly should be at home resting.

“Why aren’t you home?”

“I have a job. People depend on me. I have worked through worse.”

“When do you get off, I can give you a ride home.”

“Hours, don’t worry about it.”

“You shouldn’t be walking home alone.”

“I’m short and bruised, not helpless. Come January I’ll be an adult legally. I’ve lived alone since I was 14, I walk alone a majority of the time. You can’t honestly imagine one moron could scare me away from going to work and keeping my freedom.” Picking up the empty crate you went to get a second saying, “Have a nice day. I can get home on my own.”

“I can’t believe he actually filed a countersuit,” Eddie grumbled with arms crossed.

“Well I did ruin his career according to him.” You said nudging the empty stack of spools you had brought back down to the garage where the next shipment was being delivered by a crew who confirmed they would take the empties back to reuse them. His brow arched up as he felt upset enough to not stop the chatter of the Hive he heard through Venom who were spying on the culprit in his hospital bed still under observation. “Guess we can see how far the courts will let this go.”

“Well Murdock said he’s gonna talk to some Judges about that. Prosecutor already is hot and heavy to have him moved to jail and refused to accept any type of deal with less than five years in prison for assault on a child.”

“Well I got a call that they got a call, grandfather said the embassy for Denmark sent a rep to the Prosecution, apparently there were a few there already from other embassies. Tried to say that I could have security if I wanted but I said I rarely get accosted by book wielding boxers then got complimented on my right hook.” The last statement had him chuckle to himself as you glanced at the strip of sail draped over the arm of the mast you put there to give a hint of the pattern showing two acorn filled squares.

The section was folded over to not show much more and with a grin you greeted the delivery crew who opened the back of the truck and unloaded clearly double the amount of the first shipment. The empties were loaded up with a subtle snap of a picture of Eldfalls and the sail as a clipboard was readied to let you sign for the delivery.

Noise outside showed the proof of the barriers up that kept the press at bay while this lawsuit nonsense was going on, crews who had been camped out outside your building only to find their equipment fail when you came into sights. Days you had been shutting down and ignoring tries to interview you just leaving Murdock and Eddie to willingly take the brunt of it between scalding word sent through the embassies of a child of Scandinavia being attacked physically and then legally by such a useless coward.

Weeks avoidance of the press and over lunch alone at the library table with your Asgardian notes and sketches of what you had dreamed up. Transporter sketches and lists of menu options from the medical bay machine all made a confusing layout of images a few teachers and the librarian stole glimpses at passing by. Like dna woven rings held internally a ring of material your brain still was working over to try and tap then bring to focus what you were seeing. It was admirable at least to some on how you were focusing on something and allowing this to blow over.

Not that it would take much longer as he would miss a court date and be found dead by a bad mix of a paralytic with his pain meds. A move that as the news would speculate something sinister was behind it the Punisher made a big show of support by burning a skull into the front of his home that was still roped off by police tape claiming the kill for himself even if it wasn’t exactly his usual signature method of kill. Now beginning a new court debacle of his relatives out to fight over the supposed money he had left behind only to find out he was near to a million in debt and highly dependant on his matches to keep afloat.

Pt 44

#Escaped Child Assassin #Happy Hogan #Susan Storm #Eddie Brock #Venom #Symbiotes #Found Family #Matt Murdock #The Punisher #surprise attack #hurt/comfort #Captain Stacy #Marvel

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