Well, this wasn’t pretty; Logan’s unsheathed claws, a thunder god in reach of blunt objects and feral men shrugging their companions off. Hadn’t they just left a fight?

“Who do you think you’re turning your nose up at, little miss sunshine?”

“You, and your pathetic attempts at upsetting me, human.”

The room hushed upon her entrance, “Ladies, you’re both pretty. Now why don’t you both sit down and relax.” A statement. Not a question.

Logan took the hint. She knew the other one wouldn’t, “and who are you?”

Her smile was anything but pleasant, “Unless you’d like to find out the hard way, I suggest you employ some diplomacy. Asgaurdian.”

Before he could provide ant retort, a bandaged Tony floated in, as casually as he always did, “Ah, and I see you’ve all met the lovely Storm.”

His eyes met hers, and he knew that gloating smirk was for him.