The Avengers had set you up on a bench, a lone island of wrought iron in a sea of green.

A single earpiece, small and almost invisible, crackled with static before Tony Stark's voice came through, tinny and close.

A flutter of fabric. A whisper of displaced air.

And then he was there, standing not five feet away. Dressed in casual black that did nothing to hide the regal line of his shoulders. His dark hair fell in soft waves, and his green eyes caught the dappled light like cut glass.