Carol Danvers stood where sunlight and A/C clashed, the door next to her kept open by a door stop. Her mind had long gone absent, thinking of far off things, the empty glass soda bottle in her right hand tapping against the railing of the fifth floor balcony and outdoor lounge--killing time as she waited. The strange sensation of processed air-conditioned air mixing with the fresh Southern Californian air tingled her nostrils, the clash of chilled air with warm lazy Sunday morning air making her feel a woman caught between two realities.

A feeling that was anything but new to Carol.

The trip to Los Angeles was short notice, something Carol hadn't minded at all, considering the sheer amount of boredom that resulted from sitting about the Avengers complex not doing much of anything useful. So when her phone lit up with the invite to LA, she didn't hesitate. She'd lost her golden aviators somewhere in flight over Colorado, crossing the Rockies. Gave her an excuse to buy new ones once she had gotten to LA; she found a new pair in the Howard Hughes center, where an oversized outdoor mall met an oversized movie theater and span of restaurants nearly as far as the eye could see. Wearing an old favorite pair of blue jeans, a white tank top whose straps mixed with a white bra, and a vintage leather bomber jacket gifted to her from an old Vet. Right now she was little more than a tall blonde in a city with countless tall blondes.

Since the start of her public life as Captain Marvel, there had been precious few moments of getting to blend in, of just being a wallflower. Growing up, Carol was always used to a certain amount of attention, a certain level of white noise ever present in her life. It had only increased when she got to the Academy, and again increased when she got out to the Fleet. But none of it, not the attention she got for being attractive, not the attention she got for being a female pilot, not even the attention she got for being an attractive female pilot--none of it entered the atmosphere that was the attention she got as Captain Marvel. 

[i]"There are star athletes, then there are celebrities, then there are royals and presidents--and THEN there are superheroes."[/i]

That's how the Uber driver put it to her on the way over. She took an Uber, a new(ish) grey Civic driven by a charming young artist based out of Compton named Kahlil, in an attempt to keep a lower profile than zooming around the city in the air would allow. The moment young Kahlil learned she was on her way to the posh headquarters of Daystrom Media Enterprises, he began telling her all about how superheroes were the new top tier of famous in the world. That it made sense for Captain Marvel to meet with DME.

To that, Carol explained it was a meeting set up by a friend, not a power move. In truth, Carol hadn't even asked many details when she was told about it, a fact that quietly ate away at her after Kahlil put the spotlight right on her. The friend met Carol at the DME building on Sunset; Tiffany had every bit of glamor that Carol did not: where Carol was in jeans, a tank top, and a leather jacket her model friend was resplendent in a tight, sleeveless, dress adorned in metallic beading of purples and reds and blues. Her dark brown hair long, impossibly straight, and shining bright. 

They barely got in the building before their voices got quiet, and tense. Facing each other, ignoring anyone else. Carol wasn't siked about being paraded before a talent management agency. Tiffany wasn't siked about Captain Marvel, her friend, being wholey dependent on the US Government P.R. machine. Options were never a bad thing, Tiff argued--right?

"Right." Carol finally allowed, partially sighing the word, her blue eyes watching as Tiffany turned and greeted young scions of DME; wearing various designers in various states of business casual. Next, they descended upon Carol, shaking hands and exchanging quick introductions before the meeting on the fifth floor with their bosses. The pitch was impressive enough, even Carol had to admit. They showed her what DME could have done for Captain Marvel in the wake of the Kryptonian invasion--their only true slippage coming when Carol admitted she wouldn't have wanted to do so many interviews. 

One of the DME bosses had simply smiled at Carol's reservation: [i]"What about just a morning show, a late show, and your choice--Charlie Rose?"[/i]

...and, well, she did like Charlie Rose. Oak table, black background, serious (enough) topics and conversations. As it was Captain Marvel had only been available to the press once, during the press conference that introduced her to the American public, and the world as a whole. DME called that decision by the Government a mistake. That it "robbed" the world of a golden opportunity to get to know the newest superhero, and one of it's few great superheroines. At the end of it, the overly glamorized and overly educated talent agents promised to turn Captain Marvel into "the heroine that your nieces could be proud of."

Carol didn't say it--she didn't have to, Tiff did: "Maisie and Claudia Danvers [b]are[/b] proud of their aunt."

"And so there are people out there asking if Captain Marvel is even a hero--some claim she's an alien, some she's a government weapon. Yet if the US Governemnt had done their job right the first time when they introduced Captain Marvel...would your little nieces have even ever heard people ask such questions about their beloved aunt?"

Tiff and Carol exchanged a look, before the meeting ended for Carol; Tiff stayed in the room a little while longer to talk without Carol, gathering contact details and setting up a second meeting, Carol going outside on the balcony to wait and consider whether or not she even wanted to be part of a second meeting. Newly purchased aviators back on, tapping the now empty bottle of the coca-cola she'd gotten in the meeting, waiting.

When the girl appeared in the door, she appeared with a rueful smile on her pretty, painted, red high glossed lips. "So, hey. I'm sorry if that caught you off guard. I tried to warn you."

She had, too, Carol remembered. Over the phone, Tiffany had started to tell her that what she wanted to set up for Carol might make the pilot "feel out of place." Tiff was the glamor girl who enjoyed the jetsetter lifestyle. Carol had never exactly been the type. Being courted by one of Hollywood's biggest talent agencies? It was strange, and it would make waves. Carol was certain she'd hear about it from someone in the government, maybe even Stark. [i]Was Captain Marvel going Hollywood?[/i]

Carol snorted, waving her hand, the one with the empty bottle. "It's okay, Tiff. You tried to warn me, right? And some of what they said in there made sense--I'm starting to realize the DoD hasn't done Captain Marvel a lot of favors so far." She shrugged, quickly, dismissively. "But I don't know if the answer to that is this."

"[i]This[/i]?"

"Going Hollywood."

Tiffany Saunders laughed, loudly, and leaned in to steal a hug from the taller blonde superhuman woman. "Only you would consider this going Hollywood, Carol."

Carol relented, the light, sweet, scent of Tiffany's perfume filling her nostrils, Tiffany's arms simply looping around Carol's waist: allowing Carol to hug her shoulders, and whisper in her ear, "Thanks, Tiff. Seriously, for looking out for me, and for looking out for Captain Marvel."

The hug unwound, but the young woman gave a tug to Carol's jacket. "Stay tonight? There's a pizza place in West Hollywood you'd love, I know you would, and then maybe we could head down to the beaches? Or maybe..." Her voice trailed, as her eyes read Carol. Bittersweet became her smile, Tiff's tone staying unpressured, staying casual. She knew now Carol wasn't staying. "Don't worry about it. I adore you, I'm happy to look out for you, and Captain Marvel. Would you like me to take that, for you?"

Carol had all but forgotten about the glass coke bottle, and that Tiffany could always tell when Carol wanted to fly. Literally. Apparently Carol got fidgety, and closed up and quiet. Half blushing, Carol handed over the bottle. "Thanks, you." A quick lean in and Carol's lips pressed to Tiff's cheek. "Call me when you get back into the City?"

The City, she said, meaning New York City. "Absolutely." Tiff nodded, and Carol smiled, sneaking one last cheek kiss before her blue eyes went skyward, and her body soon followed--making a quick detour through the Hollywood sign before going up and up, skyward, and eastward. Tiffany Saunders watching her go, the model's big brown eyes turning yellow and alien as Carol left the lower layers of the atmosphere.