Party Pooper

(Spoilers for What If E7)

When she'd asked to be called back in case of an emergency, Carol reflected, an out-of-control house party wasn't quite what she'd imagined. She'd pictured another alien invasion, something dramatic. Instead, a dozen Frost Giants were chanting "Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" and a racoon was gambling with some blue woman.

According to SHIELD, the last time the energy signature that heralded this party's arrival had been detected, it had led to the end of a planet. So as petty as this looked, they were a legitimate danger. She was almost impressed.

Still, she did try to be reasonable. She really did.

"How about you just buzz off?"

So, she hit him. Hard. He shot back across the street, crashing into a wall.

Thor, SHIELD had called him; that meant he was Asgardian. He could handle a blow. Still, she held back a little.

"You know, there's a Midgardian word for people like you," Thor said, brushing himself down.

He looked eyes with her. She raised an eyebrow, daring him.

"Party pooper!" he said, clearly proud of himself. "There. I said it."

"Okay, this one's for Fury," Carol said.

That time she didn't hold back quite so much. Thor went flying off into the sky; she diminished her aura, ever-cautious of overtaxing what the atmosphere could take. She looked around the party, all eyes on her, some disappointed, some wary.

"Now, for the rest of you," she said.

A hammer hit her. Thor landed with surprising grace given the smell of mead on his breath, hammer returning to his hands. Scowling, Carol righted herself.

Oh, it was on.

She gave him a last chance, offering a last warning; he whirled his hammer, and suddenly she was shooting through the sky. She glimpsed the stars, and a blur of continents underneath her, before skidding into the dirt somewhere entirely different. Carol groaned, sitting up straighter, shaking it off.

She could take the blow, of course; it was more an irritation than anything, like shaking your head too fast. Still, she let the energy she contained brighten for a moment, making sure she was suitably resilient.

Something rustled as she moved. She looked down; there was a small crack in the red of her shoulder-pad from where she'd hit the ground. Carol rolled her eyes. That was the downside to superpowers - she was significantly more durable than Kree armor. She'd really meant to look in to getting an upgrade over the past few decades.

Too late now. Still, it ought to outlast some frat-god.

When Thor descended overhead, she shifted position, and flew at him as fast as she dared. In her head, she was running the mental calculations for how fast she could go and how much energy she could expend without sending out any shockwaves that would cause significant damage to the planet - she'd had to learn that side of things pretty fast.

Still, most of her tests had been circling some lifeless rock halfway across the galaxy, not barrelling into a god with already-cracked armour. A shard peeled off her suit, missed by her as she focused on restraining herself.

They came to a stop in a desert. She delivered a last punch, sending him into a small crater in the sand, before landing neatly herself.

Had she made her point yet? She wasn't sure how much harder she could safely hit. Warily, she watched Thor stagger up to his feet. He stuck out a hand.

Nothing happened.

"With you in a second," Thor said. "If you'll just... ah-ha!"

A hammer streaked past her head; Carol sidestepped it, only then noticing the small patch of bare skin over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes. That was going to be a pain to replace - she wasn't exactly on speaking terms with most Kree armor-smiths.

"Let's do this!" Thor said.

Oh well, one problem at a time. He ran at her, and she summoned up her powers, eyes glowing, and shot herself right back at him.

He got a few hits in. His lightning didn't do much, but his punches were still enough to send her flying - she'd always been better at getting up after being hit, than not getting hit. It wasn't like she was in any actual danger.

Though she did hear something crack after the hammer hit her back; she stretched, but didn't feel any pain, and shrugged it off, missing the scraps of blue that fell down to earth. They whirled through the sky, trading blows and blasts of energy, only briefly glimpsing deserts and plains and oceans.

Only when she thrust an arm out to try and hit him into the sea, did she notice that her arm was suddenly bare. She faltered, slowly realizing that the Kree probably hadn't planned their footsoldiers to go to war with the Prince of Asgard. Her gaze travelled inwards - her arms, which she'd used to block a few blows, had their covering completely shattered. Her body didn't fare much better, fragments of blue and red material still there, but only held together by strained threads.

She wore boots, and her armor went up most of her legs, though small holes started to show from the strain at around her mid-thigh. Her torso had taken most of the ****, though, her pale skin unmarred but all the more stark as her abs and shoulders started to become more bared than covered.

Her underwear had somehow lasted. It was significantly more mundane in origin than her armor, but that meant it wasn't as brittle either. A sleek black sports bra and boyshorts were made visible through the costume.

"Oh, that's it," Carol muttered.

She dodged a hammer-throw and kicked him with both feet, sending him crashing into the sea with an almighty splash. As she flipped positions, the stray threads that held her boots on snapped - when she shot down after him, her boots shot off of her body, falling with significantly less speed than the rest of her.

She only noticed that after crashing down several fathoms. She grimaced, distracted for a crucial instant before she reached Thor - he knocked her back up out of the water with her hammer, flying up after her.

That time, when the lightning hit her, it didn't do nothing. Oh, she was totally fine, the extra energy more a boon than a problem, but her fabric underwear was much less resistant than her armor. In the same it took her to take a break, her bra and panties were ash.

Admittedly, Thor seemed as surprised by that as anyone. Still, she growled, and launched herself at him again.

Anger made her sloppy. He got in a lucky blow, and sent her crashing down to the ground.

She landed hard in the street where this whole scuffle had begun, visiting partygoers jumping in surprise, and then watching in bemusement.

That last thud had done it. Her armor had been straining to hold together after a fight on this scale, her underwear had been lost to the lightning, the covering on her legs had been ripped off of her by her own speed, and the integrity of the rest had been failing. It snapped after the last blow, and she caught sight of a few stray specks of material drifting neatly down above her.

Carol stared up at the sky, her eyes going wide.

And an instant before she could try to sit up, Thor quickly landed, dropping his hammer down on her bare chest.

"Hey, look everyone! A party pooper!" Thor said.

Carol squirmed. The hammer wasn't so much heavy as it was insistent - she could feel its weight against her chest, feeling like it should be next to nothing, but it just wouldn't move.

And she was naked under it. There was no ignoring that, not as she squirmed under the hammer. The cracked street pressed against her butt, the backs of her legs, and she realized how much she could kick her legs - not that it did anything.

The night air was cold, not enough to bother her, but she still noticed it. The hammer, resting neatly between her exposed breasts, was oddly warm; it was also irritating positioned, with her inability to even tweak the angle of the handle. She couldn't quite curl her arm around it, as much as she wanted to do so to try and hide her breasts from the raucous party.

She settled for pressing her legs together, crossing them very high up, and trying to think only about how the bricks were no longer pressing against her ass, and not about how more of it must be visible. She crossed both arms over her chest, wrists angled awkwardly, getting what modesty she could.

"Hey! Whitesnake!" Carol called, refusing to show anything beyond annoyance. "You serious?"

"My mother used to punish me with time-outs all the time," Thor said. "I never learnt a thing. But maybe they'll work on you."

He waved, and apparently forgot her as soon as he turned around, running eagerly over to the Frost Giant Prince. Carol was left nude on the street.

She growled, the grip of the hammer sticking up right in front of her eyes. Even with the awkward angle, she tried to grab it with both hands, wrenching it upwards. It didn't budge.

And then she remembered she was still on the floor in the middle of a potentially world-ending party, and that her little display was getting cheers. Going bright red, she quickly moved her hands back to her breasts.

"I wouldn't bother," a dark-haired woman said.

"What?" Carol said. "Who are you?"

"Sif," the woman said. She crouched by Carol, tapping the side of the hammer's head, uncomfortably close to Carol's chest.

Carol looked where she pointed; words were etched into the side of the hammer. 'Whosoever holds this hammer, if they be most radical, shall possess the power of Thor.'

"He talked his father into doing that if he passed math," Sif said conversationally. "No one else has been able to move it."

Carol looked at the hammer pinning her to the ground. She groaned.

"No chance of getting thunderbrain over there to lift it?" Carol said.

"I don't think anyone can talk him into doing anything," Sif said.

Carol groaned again. She wriggled futilely, legs fidgeting in a vain attempt to cover up her core a little bit more. She was glad of the hammer blocking her view for that, at least; she could imagine she wasn't _that _exposed. Even if she was pretty sure she absolutely was.

"Any chance of a spare coat?" Carol tried.