It's one of those things that Michaela has dreams about, okay? Ever since the Avengers formed in 2012, she — like so many other members of their fanbase — has had dreams where she gets to meet them. Nothing risque or even exciting, really. Just little moments where she gets to introduce herself, maybe hang out with one of them like they're friends. Most of the dreams start with her magically working in Avengers Tower for some unknown reason, though; they don't generally take place on a mostly empty street corner of Hell's Kitchen, and they sure as hell don't involve her dressed as Blackout.

But here she is, standing three feet away from Thor, Prince of Asgard, God of Thunder, Avenger. Waiting for the light to change so she can make her way across the crosswalk. Because she spent all of last night out with Daredevil and it's barely six in the morning and she's not going to jaywalk at six in the morning. She's liable to get run over pulling a stunt like that when she barely keep her eyes open. So she's waiting. And so is Thor, for some reason. Next to her. In Hell's Kitchen.

Michaela subtly pinches herself, just to check, and — nope. Not a dream.

Fuck.

She's not even sure he's noticed her yet. He seems engrossed in his phone, which is. Not something she would have considered before now. Thor's tech savvy? He's been on earth for about three years now, on and off, so it makes sense that he'd familiarize himself with the technology that gets the most usage from the average person. Phones, computers, various household appliances. It's just. Watching him... she thinks he's playing Words With Friends, and that opens up a whole other can of worms about who he's playing with. She's thrown off, that's the crux of it. It's not something she expected to see today, least of all when she's this sleep-deprived and sore because Daredevil didn't slow the fuck down during his rooftop chase and she had to keep up with him and—

Ugh. She needs coffee. Really, really strong coffee.

That's probably why, without her conscious consent, her mouth opens and she hears herself say, "You're Thor, right?"

Thor — because it's obviously Thor, why is that even a question — looks up from his phone, turns slightly and squints down at her. Because he's, you know, about a foot taller than her. She isn't actually looking at him, no she's staring straight across the street, willing the light to turn so she can sprint away from this awkward encounter before she can make it infinitely more awkward. The hand is mocking her, she knows it, refusing to change to the walk symbol just so it can watch her suffer.

From her periphery, she sees him smooth out his curious, questioning expression into a slight smile, and even that is blinding, what the fuck.

"Aye," he says, "I am. And you are?"

She darts a look at him, internally panics about the possibility of him thinking she's staring at him, then looks right back across the street. "Oh, I'm... I'm no one. I. I go by Blackout, but it's not— I'm no one special or anything. Just."

"Blackout?" Thor slaps a hand down on his thigh, which scares the ever-living shit out of Michela because it's loud and she's dying, and turns his body to face her properly. "I've heard of your exploits! You valiantly protect this part of the realm, do you not?"

She's dying. She has to be dying. Thor knows who she is? "I..." Michaela pinches herself again. Still not a dream. "I. Yes, I try to... protect Hell's Kitchen. How do you know that?" She's not proud of the high squeak of her voice when she asks that question but she can't control it, so she lets it go. Mostly. She's sure it'll come back to haunt her years from now in some otherwise tranquil moment.

"Stark," Thor says, like this is all very pleasant and normal, grinning and waving his phone a bit. "Or Iron Man, as I should say. He enjoys regaling the rest of us with any news stories that pertain to us, and he's become quite fixated on this so-called Knock-Off Thor."

Oh, this is so much worse. So much worse. Not only does Thor know who she is, Tony Stark does. And it's not much of a leap to assume the rest of the Avengers have heard of her, at least in the context of her being called a Knock-Off Thor. "Oh," Michaela says, with a calmness she does not feel in the least. "Does he now."

Thor laughs. Laughs! This great booming thing that Michaela swears she can feel in her chest. "Yes. He finds it rather amusing, but I myself admire your efforts. And I'm curious as to where you came across your abilities, because they do sound somewhat similar to my own. Though without a weapon like Mjolnir, of course."

Michaela's mouth opens and closes without making a sound. How does she answer that, oh god, she doesn't even fucking know herself.

"Forgive me," Thor says, misinterpreting her silence for bashfulness, maybe, "I don't mean to pry, and I did not mean to offend you if the topic is a sensitive one for you. You may keep your secrets, Blackout," he says with another grin that makes her glad she's still got the goggles on, because holy shit is it bright like the fucking sun. How do the other Avengers stand being in the same room with him without spontaneously combusting? "May I ask instead what you're doing out here at this hour? I thought the stories confirmed that your heroics are nocturnal"

Michaela twitches. He's still talking to her. What the fuck.

It's like she goes through a quick system reboot in which she is vehemently reminded that Blackout is not a timid antisocial bitch, but rather the exact opposite of that. So when she comes back online, she turns her own smile on Thor and says, "I'm just getting finished with my patrol, actually. Late night for me, but it's nothing I can't handle. What about you, though? Don't think I've ever seen you around Hell's Kitchen before."

"Very true," Thor says, chuckling. "I have not ventured to this part of New York before. But it's for that reason that I walked here. Stark, Captain Rogers, and our archer, Hawkeye, are all much more familiar with this city, and I thought I should learn the realm I find myself guarding now. New York seemed an integral first step in that plan, given that the Avengers have made this city their base of operations. I offered for the Lady Romanoff to accompany me, but she said she knows the city well enough to get by, and that is more than enough for her."

Another twitch. Oh, good. She avoided having to hold a conversation with Thor and the Black Widow. That's something, at least.

"I'm sorry to say Hell's Kitchen isn't the most welcoming part of New York," she says — or rather, Blackout says. Because this sure as hell isn't Michaela talking anymore. No, she's checked out already, hiding in the far-flung corners of her psyche and talking herself down from a panic attack. "But I hope you're enjoying yourself anyway. Hey, if you ever need a guide, I'm available. Or my friend, Daredevil, he knows these streets like the back of his hand."

"Ah, yes, I have also heard of this Devil of Hell's Kitchen. He's accomplished much in his short tenure as a hero."

Michaela practically beams. She's proud of Daredevil even if she really has no right to be. The guy's clearly insane, taking on the worst this city has to offer with mixed martial arts and a baton and nothing else, but Michaela's happy to know him, happy to see what an impact he's made on their community. "Yeah," she says, and apparently Blackout is more than willing to show off the dopey smile she gets whenever she thinks too long or too hard about Daredevil, because it gets Thor laughing again and he claps a hand on her shoulder, albeit gently. Still, the force of it rocks through her like a mini-earthquake, and she only just manages to keep her footing.

"Your admiration of him is obvious," he says, though there's no trace of mockery or condescension in his voice that Michaela can detect. "I hope he is as worthy a partner as he seems."

"Oh, we're—" Michaela pauses, side-eyeing Thor. Is she reading too much into this? He said partner, so... crime-fighting partner? Like how the Avengers must be partners? Biting back a sigh, she says, "I mean, yeah, he's great. We work well together." An unexpected laugh tumbles out of her, and she rubs a hand over the mask, smiling ruefully to herself. "I say that, but it's usually more like I'm his hapless sidekick, always getting myself into tricky situations that Daredevil has to pull me out of. But... yeah. Yeah, he's a worthy partner. Whatever you meant by that," she adds, nudging Thor's arm with her elbow and instantly regretting it — he's built like a fucking rock, Jesus Christ.

Michaela is so glad they're the only people on this street this early in the morning. She does not need her mortification documented by a dozen different Thor fangirls/fanboys.

But, speaking of documentation...

"I meant nothing crass by my comment," Thor's saying, grinning in a way that suggests that's exactly what he meant by it. Michaela can't really bring herself to care. Thor gets about a hundred free passes in her book, simply because he seems so genuine. Plus, he's a literal god, or as close to one as Michaela is ever going to meet. He can say whatever the hell he wants. "But I am glad to hear he passes muster nonetheless."

Michaela huffs a laugh, digging through her pocket to pluck out her phone. She hesitates, turning it over and over in her hands, but then she sees Thor's easy-going smile and relaxed body language and figures it can't hurt to ask, at least. "Hey, Thor..." She really should have figured out if the guy needs some kind of honorific; he hadn't used one for Stark, but Rogers got Captain and Hawkeye got his full hero name, plus he said the Lady Natasha. Well, whatever, too late now. "This is probably a little rude, or, I don't know, presumptuous. But would you mind taking a picture with me? One of my friends thinks you're awesome and he'd be so jealous."

"It's no trouble at all!" Thor, much to Michaela's surprise, brings out his own phone and easily thumbs to the camera app, flipping to the front-facing camera and crouching down so that he isn't quite towering over Michaela anymore. She wordlessly slips her phone back into her pocket, confused but hey, she's not going to question Thor. She just tugs down her mask and smiles, trying very, very hard to ignore the comforting warmth that Thor practically radiates, even dressed down in civilian clothes like he is. Thor's smile is a fucking work of art when he snaps the picture, and Michaela just laughs when he asks if she'd like a do-over. No, no, she's good, she's great, and also she thinks if she had to stand here any longer with Thor's arm draped around her she will actually spontaneously combust and exist from then on only as a soot stain on the sidewalk.

"Shall I send this to you?" he asks, and Michaela blinks, looking down at her pocket. Her phone does receive picture texts, Spidey's sent her enough memes for her to know that, but Thor having her phone number... Okay. Fuck it. Thor might be the least problematic person to have her hero number, and that includes Spider-Man.

"Yeah," she says, warming to the idea more and more as the seconds pass, "yeah, please, that'd be great. Here, text it to..."

Text sent and received, Thor says that he's scheduled to meet with Captain Rogers soon in Brooklyn, so he must be going. Michaela, slightly dumbfounded by the idea of him walking to Brooklyn from here, wants to ask if he has the time to make it there, but then Thor — summons his hammer. And zooms away.

Michaela pinches herself for the third time, just to be sure. Then she spends a full two minutes staring at the sky. Finally, she glances back to the street and realizes she has three seconds to run the crosswalk, so she fucking books it, because she needs to get to her apartment, now. Maybe sleep for a week. That sounds good. Daredevil can handle patrols by himself for a couple nights, surely.

______________

It's not even a full twenty-four hours later that the shit hits the fan.

Michaela, fresh from the shower and counting down the minutes until she has to get ready to go to work, hears the generic chirping of her hero phone that signals she's gotten a text. Probably Spidey — he sends her the most ridiculous Avengers-based memes he can find, and she's taken to sending the Rappin' with Cap memes as revenge. They're probably due for an exchange about now, so she doesn't think much of it as she plops down on the end of her bed and fishes the phone from the pocket of her discarded costume.

BLACKOUT, reads Spider-Man's first text. She squints. Okay, that seems a tad dramatic for memeage, but Spidey can be a dramatic boy.

Did someone else offer to feed you after you helped them out? She's told this kid time and time again that he comes across as the superhero version of a starving artist, it's only natural that nice people will want to ply him with food.

no no no

ok yes this little old lady bought me a pretzel

but that's not y im freaking out!!!!

Well then get to the good part Spidey

do u have insta??

Michaela frowns, setting her burner phone down to reach for her actual phone, which is charging on her nightstand. She taps into Instagram, and texts Spider-Man, Of course I do. Am I looking for something specific?

search for THOR!!!!

With or without the five exclamation points, is what she wants to ask, believing the dryness of her response will come through the text nicely. But then she registers that he's talking about Thor and oh no, this can't be good. Michaela types Thor into the search bar, and... thorodinson pops up as an account. A verified account at that. Thor... has an Instagram account. Okay then. That's new information to process at a later date. She clicks on his account, skims his bio and profile pic (it's him carrying Dr. Jane Foster and another brunet woman in both arms, which, that's a lot) and then it's like she's been doused in ice water when she gets to his latest post.

Oh. Huh. That's — her. That's Blackout, cozied up to Thor, smiling like the utter dumbass she is while he beams pure sunshine at the camera. She should have rethought that picture; she's only just now noticing that she's covered in scrapes and bruises, that there's blood on her forehead above the goggles and staining the collar of her sweatshirt an ugly maroon. She, uh, she definitely looks like she just came from a fight, a fight she maybe-definitely lost. At least the swelling she's experiencing right now hadn't been a problem when they took the photo.

(Emmett is going to have so many questions for her that all vaguely revolve around domestic abuse and she still hasn't come up with a satisfactory answer to any of them. She has to ask Daredevil what he tells people, considering he constantly looks like he's been run over by an eighteen-wheeler)

But. Thor. Thor posted this picture of them, and it has a mind-boggling two million likes, as well as thousands of comments that Michaela is sorely tempted to read, but going down that rabbit hole is going to be a lot less fun than her wikipedia excursions, so she'll hopefully refrain from giving into temptation.

The caption reads: Had a fortuitous encounter with another of New York's brave warriors. Generous, calling her a warrior, and also not calling their "encounter" the product of an overzealous fan being unable to keep her mouth shut. Also, fortuitous? Thor's too fucking nice. They barely said anything of substance to each other, apart from Michaela basically admitting to her crush on Daredevil like the middle schooler she is on the inside. In fact, she's just grateful that none of that conversation made it into Thor's caption. Not that she thinks he'd be a dick about it, but maybe on Asgard it's like, complimentary to announce a person's crush to the world at large. And he's a prince, so Thor could also be responsible for... announcing... couplings. Or something.

Regardless, it could be worse. Michaela can admit that herself. It's weird as hell that she's featured on an Avenger's Instagram and that literal millions of people know her superhero persona, but, well, people don't know it's her, and she'll take that.

She's just about to text Spidey and use this as an excuse to rub it in his face when her phone chimes again.

It's a link this time, and in another text Spidey's written, OMG READ THIS PLS

Michaela does not want to read whatever this links to. At all. But she knows Spider-Man well enough by this point that to know he won't stop sending this exact link, over and over again, until she responds to it with a genuine reaction. So she braces herself, decides that she can't feasibly leave the country no matter how much she might want to, then clicks the link.

She blinks down at her phone. A tabloid, one of the trashier ones she sometimes sees in Cody's that gets bought way too often in her opinion. Given that this is pretty much clickbait, it's not something she would generally peruse of her own volition, because she values her sanity and at least mostly cares about the truth when it comes to celebrities and the goings-on thereof.

The title? Baby Avenger!: Find out which Avenger went from superhero to superdad! The answer will shock you!

SPIDEY WHAT THE SHIT IS THIS

Y DIDNT U TELL ME UR THORS KID

PLEASE TELL ME YOU DONT ACTUALLY BELIEVE THIS BULL

IT SAYS THOR CAME TO EARTH LIKE TWENTY YEARS AGO AND MET A GIRL AND HAD A KID AND THEN LEFT

THORS UR ABSENTEE DAD OMG

SPIDEY I SWEAR TO GOD

MY DAD IS FROM OHIO

R U SURE??

YES I AM SURE

CAN U LIFT THE HAMMER??????

Michaela lets out a noise she's never heard herself make before, at a higher pitch than she thought possible for the human vocal chords to emit, and flings the phone behind her, hearing the muffled thump of it smacking into her pillows. What the hell. What the fuck. What the fuckity-fuck. She was wrong, this couldn't be worse. Blackout is never going to be taken seriously ever again as a hero. Oh god, oh god, what does Thor think of this? What do the other Avengers think of this?

Her phone chirps again, twice in quick succession. Michaela drags her hands down her face, counts to ten in her head, then twists around and crawls over the bed to snatch her phone from the pillows. Spider-Man may be a child but if he says one more goddamn thing about this bullshit—

Unknown Number: Daughter! I am pleased we have finally made contact after these long years apart! You must come visit me at the Tower so can we bond!

And then a voicemail from Daredevil, the gist of which is: I never knew you were royalty, Blackout.

That's when Michaela screams.

She gets a warning from her landlord the next day to keep it down and two more texts from Spider-Man demanding to know if she can lift the hammer.

She might be about to commit spider-cide.