So I was thinking it over today . . . I think I want to get this book done before I go on to another updating cycle. And before people start asking me why I don't want to get to the others, I do. I really do. I just want to make this book as good as all my other Doctor Who ones.

As you all know, some of the movie transcripts out there are . . . not the best. Literally, practically nothing was offered for the Lagos fight scene. The only big action cue in "Age of Ultron" for the big team-up scene was "they all fight Ultron." The transcript I have for "Civil War" is slightly better, but it's still not as good as the ones I have for Doctor Who.

So I want to get this done so I know it's a book I'll feel proud of. I've got stuff planned for this book, and Miss Gatiss - shavingforsherl0ck - can vouch for that. This is going to be a good book, but I also want this to be a great one.

That being said, this book is the one I'll be going through straight through, just like I did with "Turning The Tides." I think I'll feel better just doing Marvel for a while, too, especially since tomorrow, I'll be on a plane back to the United States, and it would be a pain to finish an episode and not have anything else to go on to. We'll also be traveling to South Carolina a few days later, so I feel like instead of constantly worrying about Doctor Who episodes - which when I write them, are constantly at least 6K words - I can write these chapters, which roughly average about 2K a chapter.

All right, enough of my jabbering. Enjoy chapter two!

***

"Try to remember the kind of September," an older woman sang at a piano. "When grass was green . . . " She turned to the figure sleeping on the couch nearby. "Wake up, dear, and say goodbye to your father."

"Who's the homeless person on the couch?" an older man asked as he entered.

The man sat up to reveal himself to be a younger Tony Stark. "This is why I love coming home for Christmas," he griped. "Right before you leave town."

"Be nice, dear," Maria Stark chastised her husband. "He's been studying abroad."

"Really? Which broad?" Howard Stark asked. "What's her name?"

"Candice," Tony answered.

"Do me a favor? Try not to burn the house down before Monday."

"OK, so it's Monday. That is good to know. I will plan my toga party accordingly. Where you going?"

"Your father's flying us to the Bahamas for a little getaway," Maria answered.

"We might have to make a quick stop," Howard added.

"At the Pentagon," Tony raised an eyebrow. "Right? Don't worry, you're gonna love the holiday menu at the commissary."

"You know, they say sarcasm is a metric for potential," Howard snorted. "If that's true, you'll be a great man some day. I'll get the bags."

"He does miss you when you are not here," Maria told Tony softly as Howard moved off. "And frankly, you're going to miss us. Because this is the last time we're all going to be together. You know what's about to happen. Say something. If you don't, you'll regret it."

Tony paused, then turned to his father. "I love you, Dad. And I know you did the best you could."

Howard and Maria walked off, Tony staring after them . . . and the Tony Stark of the present straightened from where he'd been leaning against the doorframe. "That's how I wished it happened," he said. "Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing . . . or BARF. God, I gotta work on that acronym," he wrinkled his nose. "An extremely costly method of hijacking the hippocampus to clear traumatic memories." He blew on one of the candles by the piano, and the room around him flickered. "It doesn't change the fact that they never made it to the airport, or all the things I did to avoid processing my grief, but . . . " The illusion faded, and Tony took off his glasses as he turned to his audience – a group of students from MIT. "Plus, 611 million dollars for my little therapeutic experiment? No one in the right mind would've ever funded it. Help me out, what's the MIT mission statement?" He spoke with the students. "To generate, disseminate and preserve knowledge. And work with others to bring it to bear on the world's greatest challenges." He nodded when they finished. "Well, you are the others. And, quiet as it's kept, the challenges facing you are the greatest mankind's ever known. Plus, most of you are broke." He chuckled. "Oh, I'm sorry. Rather, you were. As of this moment, every student has been made an equal recipient of the Inaugural September Foundation Grant. As in all of your projects have just been approved and funded!" The crowd cheered, and Tony grinned as he continued reading off the teleprompter. "No strings, no taxes, just reframe the future, starting now!" Tony opened his mouth to continue, but froze when he saw the next line.

Now I would like to introduce the head of the foundation: Pepper Potts.

Tony swallowed, then went on. "Go break some eggs!"

The crowd cheered as he left, and as he took a deep breath, the MIT teacher who had been backstage caught up to him. "Wow," he clapped. "Wow. That, uh, that took my breath away. Oh, Tony, so generous! So much money! Wow! Out of curiosity, will any portion of that grant be made available to faculty? I know, 'oh, gross,' but hear me out. I have got this killer idea for a self-cooking hotdog. Basically, chemical detonator embedded – "

"Restroom's this way, yeah?" Tony interrupted, pointing.

"Yeah," the teacher nodded. "Embedded in the meat shaft – "

"Mr. Stark, I am so sorry about the teleprompter," Tony's assistant said in a rush as she caught up. "I didn't know Miss Potts had cancelled. They didn't have time to fix it."

"It's fine," Tony said sharply. "I'll be right back."

"We'll catch up later!" the teacher called.

***

Tony stopped in front of the men's restroom, then took a look back to the stage. He shook his head, then walked to the elevator. He stopped in front of them, then took notice of the woman standing by him. "That was nice," she told him. "What you did for those young people."

"Ah, they deserve it," Tony nodded. "Plus, it helps ease my conscience."

"They say there's a correlation between generosity and guilt," the woman said. "But if you've got the money . . . break as many eggs as you like. Right?"

Tony gave her a half-smile, then turned back to the elevator. He blinked, seeing no button was pressed, then pushed the button to go up. "Are you going up?"

"I'm right where I want to be," the woman answered, digging in her handbag.

Assuming the worst, Tony immediately reached out and grabbed her wrist. "OK, OK, hey!" When she stopped and glared at him, he released her. "Sorry. It's an occupational hazard."

"I work for the State Department," the woman said. "Human Resources. I know it's boring, but it enabled me to raise a son. I'm very proud of what he grew up to be." She took out a photo and shoved it into his hand. "His name was Charlie Spencer. You murdered him in Sokovia." Tony blanched, looking down at the photo. "Not that it matters in the least to you. You think you fight for us. You just fight for yourself." Tony started to shake his head, but the woman scoffed. "Who's going to avenge my son, Stark? He's dead . . . and I blame you."

Tony could only watch the woman walk away, then swallowed and turned back to the picture he held.

***

"Eleven Wakandans were among those killed during a confrontation between the Avengers and a group of mercenaries in Lagos, Nigeria last month," a news anchor was saying while the Doctor and Steve watched, Steve's wife Martha and fellow Avenger Saleen Harper watching. "The traditionally reclusive Wakandans were on an outreach mission in Lagos when the attack occurred."

"Our people's blood is spilled on foreign soil," Wakanda King T'Chaka spoke at a news conference. "Not only because of the actions of criminals, but by the indifference of those pledged to stop them. Victory at the expense of the innocent is no victory at all."

"The Wakanda king went on to – "

Steve turned off the TV with a sigh. "We could have used you," the Doctor admitted to Saleen.

"I know," was all Saleen said as she turned away and walked towards the conference room.

The Doctor sighed and turned to Martha. "Is Jessie still with Wanda?"

"I'll bet," Martha nodded, Steve standing to go check on them.

***

Sure enough, he found the two women on Wanda's bed, Wanda with her head on Jessie's shoulder, the older woman's arm around her as they watched another news channel. "What legal authority does an enhanced individual like Wanda Maximoff have to operate in Nigeria?" the news reporter was saying.

Steve switched it off without further ado. "It's my fault," Wanda mumbled.

"That's not true," Steve shook his head.

"That's what I've been trying to tell her," Jessie sighed.

"Turn the TV back on," Wanda said snidely. "They're being very specific."

"I should've clocked that bomb vest long before you had to deal with it," Steve admitted, sitting down with them on Wanda's other side. "Rumlow said 'Bucky,' and all of a sudden I was a 16-year-old kid again in Brooklyn . . . and people died. It's on me."

"It's on both of us," Wanda mumbled.

"All three of us," Jessie corrected. "I didn't see the bomb either, not until it was too late."

"This job . . . " Steve sighed. "We try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes, that doesn't mean everybody. But if we can't find a way to live with that . . . next time, maybe nobody gets saved."

"Sometimes, not everybody lives," Jessie whispered.

Wanda closed her eyes, then jumped when the resident android of the Avengers complex walked through the wall. "Vis!" she complained, Jessie and Steve both staring at the android in surprise. "We talked about this!"

"Yes, but the door was open," Vision gestured to the open door. "So I assumed that . . . " He paused, then turned to Steve. "Captain Rogers wished to know when Mr. Stark was arriving."

"Thank you," he nodded. "We'll be right down."

"I'll use the door," Vision said meekly, walking out. He paused, then looked back in. "Oh, and apparently, he's brought a guest."

"Who?" Jessie asked.

"The Secretary of State," Vision answered.

Steve's eyes widened in surprise, the three of them hurrying to move.

***

"Five years ago, I had a heart attack," Thaddeus Ross told the assembled Avengers in the conference room. "I dropped right in the middle of my backswing," he demonstrated golfing. "Turned out it was the best round of my life, because after thirteen hours of surgery and a triple bypass, I found something forty years in the Army had never taught me: perspective. The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives . . . but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the world vigilantes."

"And what word would you use?" the Doctor asked from where he sat with Jessie, Wanda, Pietro, and Clara.

"How about 'dangerous?'" Ross raised an eyebrow at him. "What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced – and alien – individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?" He turned on the screen behind him. "New York." Footage from the two battles with the Chitauri appeared, making Saleen clench her fist. "Washington DC." The three destroyed Helicarriers appeared next, Sam ducking his head, Martha shaking hers and looking at the table. "Sokovia." Pietro and Jessie both stiffened when the falling land mass appeared, Clara and the Doctor reaching out to take their significant other's hand. "Lagos."

When the building collapsed, Wanda stiffened and curled up in her chair, looking away, the Doctor narrowing his eyes to slits. "OK, that's enough," Steve said with a sideways glance at them.

"For the past several years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision," Ross told them. "That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution." He placed a large, thick document on the table in front of the person closest to him: James Rhodes. "The Sokovia Accords." Rhodey blinked, looking through them, before passing them on to Wanda. She stared at them blankly. "Approved by 117 countries," Ross continued as Wanda passed the Accords on. Jessie didn't skip a beat before sliding the document past her to the Doctor. He considered them for a long moment before passing it to Clara. She, too, considered them before biting her lip and passing them on. Pietro followed Jessie's moves and slid the documents over to Vision. "It states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary."

"The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place," Steve said. "I feel we've done that."

"Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor, Loki, and Banner are right now?" Ross raised an eyebrow. "If I misplaced a couple of thirty megatron nukes, you can bet there'd be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That's how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground."

"So there are contingencies?" Saleen assumed.

"Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords," Ross nodded. "Talk it over."

"And if we come to a decision you don't like?" Jessie asked, multiple people around the table stiffening at the icy tone in her voice. No one ever liked it when Jessie of all people started using that tone.

Ross either didn't know she used it, or he didn't care. He just smirked. "Then you retire."

Silence was around the table as Ross left. Steve could swear he heard Jessie whisper "Not bloody likely" before they stood to gather in a more comfortable place.

This would take a while.

***

Well, it's rather obvious right off the bat what side Jessie and Pietro are leaning towards.

And on that cheery note . . . happy Fourth of July to my fellow Americans! I'll be back in the States tomorrow! :D Man, I am so ready to come home. And I believe I can say I had a meltdown in every country . . . except Germany. I don't think that happened in Germany. Good to know.

So, assuming I can use my laptop comfortably on the plane tomorrow, there should be updates coming tomorrow night as well. I recounted to Miss Malone earlier that I've seen "Civil War" three times . . . I'm hoping "Doctor Strange" is still available to watch on the international flight. Seriously, I'll watch that movie over and over again, I love it. And I cannot wait to get to writing it for this series. I'm sort of targeting for it to be post Series 10 . . . of course, I need to actually finish watching the series and see the Christmas special, too. But I think that's where it's going to fit.

Keep an eye out for updates!