It had started with the fourth consecutive evening of not getting more than three hours of sleep. Insomnia and low need for sleep wasn't uncommon in the Stark bloodline, but being pregnant was a game-changer. Nearly the end of her gestation Alexa needed far more sleep than she ever had in her life, but the combination of her fast-working brain and a fast-moving baby conspired to keep her awake. And cranky: a full-on stomping temper-tantrum had been had twice before noon because she was so sleepy but couldn't sleep. Alexa didn't exactly consider it admitting defeat, but she did give in and decide to head down the block to the neighborhood Starbucks for an octo-shot Pumpkin Spice Latte, cup of whip on the side. It technically wasn't on the menu, but Alexa always brought her own cup, a space-dimensionally enhanced contraption that allowed her to appear to be carrying a normal venti cup with about a sixty-four ounce actual capacity. The baristas never seemed to mind. Even throughout her pregnancy Alexa was, much to Remi's chagrin, a regular at the store.
Which is why the barista knew exactly who to call when four weird-looking dudes dressed like extras in a low-budget Hawaiian horror movie blinked into existence, grabbed the redhead's wrists, and then blinked out again leaving behind the freshly-made PSL and the fairly unmistakable growl-hum of alien spacecraft in their wake. In stunned bystander speak? "Um, King Fishdude? Tiki alien guys stole your girlfriend. Or maybe it was that guy from Ancient Aliens. You wanna come get her latte?"