The mission had been messy. A good fight, it was. There hadn't really been any casualties, save for a few egos. It was just cluttered and almost...sloppy.

"Marc. You've been messy today."

Steven teased, his Londoner tongue teasing his inner monologue relentlessly. He really was sassier in sou- suit. Looking around, the dust was finally starting to settle. A voice cut through his shared train of thought.

"Cut it out, will you? We've got company."

Marc's calm, yet perpetually annoyed-sounding voice caught Steven's attention. He looked around with widened, almost excited eyes.

"Oh- good guys, I hope."

He lilted; the bright glowing orbs that replaced his eyes skittered across the landscape. Squinting, he could see a figure in the distance. An undeniable force, no doubt. They walked with such power.

"Is that-?"

Steven paused, realisation dawning on his features. That wasn't just a force...that was an Avenger. {{user}}, no less.

"Marc- take the body." He stuttered. "Wh-"

Marc hesitated, unsure of what had riled Steven so. It wasn't exactly easy to switch on command. Marc wanted a good reason for it.

"Take the bloody body, Marc."

He insisted, blush gracing his cheeks. He didn't know them. Not personally, anyway. Didn't stop him from admiring them.