Bruce trailed close behind Tony through the crowded county street fair. The smell of sweat and grease bombarded his nose, the flashing lights of the rides against the dying summer sun blinded him. Tony smiled, laughed, waved to the people pointing in recognition; Bruce focused on making himself as small as possible.

The rest of the team appeared to be varying degrees of uncomfortable. Clint and Natasha shared an uneasy look here and there as they picked through the openings of people. Thor commented on the wonders of Midgardian celebration, using his broad shoulders to push through clumps of teens. Steve strolled about with a faraway look on his face, no doubt trying to ignore the questionable outfits some of the skankier high school girls had picked out.

The fair had been Tony's idea. Of course it had. He was the only one who liked to be thrust into the middle of overcrowded, loud, public events, but it was his day to choose the venue for their day off, and the team (after some convincing, bribing, and all-out blackmailing) had complied.

"Oh!" exclaimed Natasha, pointing to a small, black booth. "A fortune teller. My grandmother used to take me to see one every year in Russia." (1)

"Come on Tasha," teased Clint "you can't honestly believe in that stuff."

"Of course not," she defended, "it's just for a bit of fun." She started over.

"I don't know about all that," said Steve. His mama said witchcraft and the like was the Devil's work.

"Well," began Tony, "we could go on the Zipper again."

The team stood in front of the booth, making their way over in record time. The fortune teller's name was Madame Penelope. (2) Natasha dropped a coin on the purple cloth on the counter.

"What is it that you wish to see?" asked Penelope. She was obviously blind and had two different colored eyes, one green and one blue.

"Make a prediction," demanded Tony. "What will our next challenge be?" Penelope took a deep breath and placed her palms on the counter. She shut her eyes, but they moved rapidly under her veined, aged lids, as if she was seeing something she could not when they were open.

"Rather than seeking to know the challenge ahead, you all must first face the one at hand. Although you have been thrown together in body, you are not of a singular mind." Clint snorted and Steve rolled his eyes. He knew that there was truth in her words, but what were they supposed to do, have hour long heart-to-hearts? No one would go for that.

"That's not a fortune!" cried Tony. "That's just a lucky observation." Bruce wondered how she could observe such a thing, or even know that there was more than one of them when only Tony had spoken. Unfazed, Madame Penelope continued.

"Each of you has a power, as true as my own. For some of you, it is your strength. For others," she said, opening her eyes, "your downfall." Bruce could swear those clouded, sightless eyes were staring straight through him. He shuddered. "Tomorrow, when you wake, you will be, not yourselves, but each other."

"Alright, that's enough of that bullshit," said Tony. He led the team away, laughing about "psycho, psychic, mumbo-jumbo." Bruce followed silently, pensive. He didn't necessarily believe in the supernatural, but he had seen things in his travels, things science could not explain.

He hoped Tony was right about Penelope being a carney fraud.