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marysuevirusTitle: The Mary Sue Virus: Lights, Camera, Avengers!
Chapter Five: On the Job
Fandom: something like the Marvel Universe, leaning mostly toward the Movie!Avengers branch
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: lots of sex and violence, language, anything else i can toss in. probably some drinking.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel and whoever the hell else owns them.. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the Sues are the sole property of their originators,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dazzledfirestar, mistress_o_muse, ginevrasm, rylan_m, and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.
The Mary Sue Virus: Lights, Camera, Avengers! - The Index
Alex ignored him. It had started the moment she had left Coulson's office, cursing the man up and down with every unkind thing she could think of. She'd even made up some shit. It had carried on for the drive to her apartment to pack her bags. Barton had offered her a ride and she'd tried to turn him down, told him she'd planned on catching a cab to her house and then to the airport. But he'd insisted, telling her that it was pointless and a waste of money to take a cab when they were both going to the same destination, and she'd found herself in the front seat of some four door sedan that was in desperate need of a tune up. The engine had made noises that had set her teeth on edge.
She'd ignored his presence at her apartment while she'd packed up everything she'd need. She'd ignored him when they'd gotten back in the car and gone to his place to collect his things. She'd ignored him all the way to the airport, in the check in line, in the terminal. When they'd boarded the plane. All through the flight attendants' pre-flight spiel.
Not that he hadn't tried to engage her in conversation. Because he had. But after she'd called him a pain in the ass for the fifth time, he'd subsided into silence and had only regarded her curiously out of the corner of his eyes when he'd thought she wasn't paying attention. And as soon as they'd gotten the okay to use small electronics, she'd whipped out her MP3 player and plugged the headphones in. Then she'd turned her attention to the file Coulson had given her.
That plain manila envelope contained all of the information she needed to know. Some agents had reported that there were strange goings on at a rental property in Malibu and some observation had turned up a few well known gun runners showing up on the place's door step. One or two people had been positively identified as HYDRA members. Because these agents were really little more than low level peons, the job of spying and reporting on these HYDRA agents had been turned over to agents with more training and experience. And a higher clearance level. Peachy. Just what she wanted to do. Play I Spy with Barton.
Coulson was a sick, sick bastard. And Alex was going to hire a prostitute for his next birthday party. A male prostitute.
For the purposes of their mission, Alex and Barton were a newly married couple on a quick honeymoon to the West Coast. Alexis and Clint Miller had only gotten married a few months ago, the ceremony performed by a Justice of the Peace in New York City and hadn't been able to get away until now. There were documents to prove it. There were also New York State driver's licenses with their names on them. All of their papers were in the name Miller, as was a credit card. There was paper money, too. And the name of a rental property in Malibu only a few doors down from the place that HYDRA was supposed to be using.
Alex sorted through the papers, committing to memory pieces of her and Barton's lives in the off event anyone asked. And, knowing people, they would. Things like where they'd met. How long they'd gone out before he'd popped the question. What they'd worn for their simple civil ceremony. They even had a dog in New York. He was being housed at a kennel while they enjoyed the sun and surf.
She made quick work of switching her real identification for the fake, slipping her license and other cards into a small wallet she owned for just such purposes. The wallet that carried her real identification in it was hidden away in a small pocket in her carry on. She accepted a meal from the flight attendant when the time came, along with a Coke, and went right back to ignoring him. At least until the plane finally started coming in for a landing at LAX.
"We're getting ready to land. You have to turn that off." His fingers deftly plucked the little bud from her ear and dropped it in her lap. The light and airy strains of The Mediaeval Baebes floated up from the piece of plastic, earning her a confused look. Alex shot him a glare, then reached up and turned the music off. She made a show of tucking the MP3 player into her bag before turning to stare out the small oval window.
Streets and highways were coming into focus, lines that ran north and south and east and west. Lines that cut the city into physical grids. Buildings of varying shapes and sizes perched between the lines, clinging to their individual plots of land in an attempt to attract the attention of those around them. All kinds of vehicles, small metallic bugs that were growing larger and taking shape, were moving rapidly along those grid lines. Zooming back and forth like an ant hill that had been disturbed and turned over. The sun, still shining here, was edging toward the horizon, but was still high enough to bounce its brilliance off every gleaming metal and glass surface. The world was cloaked in living, breathing, liquid sunlight that sparkled and moved like the ocean.
Los Angeles. Alive. Busy. Hectic. Laid back. An entity unto itself. A vast, crawling expanse of urban decay that was always changing. To her, it looked the same. The same tall buildings, sitting blind in the sun. The same mad dash of vehicles that were always going some place in a rush. The same crowded sensation. It still looked exactly the way it had some decade ago, when she'd last been here. She could almost smell the smog hanging heavy on the air.
The captain was giving his last minute talk about the weather conditions in the city of Lost Angels. Sunny. Warm. Windy. Mild. Alex tuned it out and simply stared at the sea of pavement below them that grew and grew as they neared the ground. Pushed away the memories of the last time she'd been here. That was the past, over and done with. No need to let it see the light of day again.
The wheels hit the tarmac, jolting her from her thoughts as her body rocked in her seat. She had a second to realize that Barton was closer to her than she was comfortable with before he spoke. "You can't ignore me the entire time we're here," His voice was soft in her ear, his breath warm against her hair and skin. She fought not to shudder with sudden sensation. The tip of his nose slid along the curve of her ear, telling her he was so close that it would likely appear to people that they were sharing secrets. "We're working together, posing at newlyweds. It'll look funny if you don't talk to me. Smile at me. Kiss me."
She turned her head, ever so slightly, so he could see the look on her face. And she offered him a smile, one filled with such sugary sweet falseness that it saw him pulling back. Just a little bit. "I never, ever kiss on a job. And even if I did, I wouldn't kiss you," she told him in a soft whisper. "If we're in public for extended periods of time, I will act the loving wife. But that is a big if, mister."
"Is there a reason you don't like me? Did I date your sister and dump her? Do I have bad breath? Is there a piece of steak stuck in my teeth?" The last was an attempt at levity.
"I don't have a sister. If I had, and you'd dumped her, my brothers would have taken turns kicking your ass for hurting her. You do not have bad breath. There is no steak stuck in your teeth because you didn't have steak to eat." She stared him in the eyes and let her smile get bigger. "I need no reason to like or dislike you. This is business and I make it a policy to not get involved in any kind of physical relationship with people I work with. We're here to work. That doesn't require that I like you. It only requires that I do my job. That is all. Nothing else."
The plane was slowing, pulling into the terminal. People were already standing in order to collect their belongings so they could get out of the confining metal tube. Barton kept staring at her, his eyes searching her face as if he could find something there that would explain her to him. "Did someone do this to you?" he finally asked.
"Do what?" The intensity of his gaze left her uncomfortable. She had to resist the urge to squirm in her seat. She didn't like that he seemed to see something.
"Make you this hard assed? Did someone hurt you or do something horrible to you? Because I can't think of ever being in the presence of a pricklier female than you."
"No one did anything to me. Perhaps this is simply my reaction to you." The line of people crowding the aisle had already started moving and most of the passengers were well past their row of seats. She knew he was aware of their progress. He wouldn't be part of the Avengers team if he wasn't. But he made no move to rise from his seat. He simply sat there, staring at her. It made Alex distinctly uncomfortable.
"Sorry, sweetheart. I don't buy it. There's something going on here. Something I don't know about. But don't worry. I'll figure it out. Just give me time." A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. Alex tried to ignore it, but there was something in his smile that caught her and held her. That smile... it made him look younger. Made her feel welcome and wanted. No one had looked at her like that in a long time and it made her heart pound, just a little, in her chest. She couldn't find him attractive. She just couldn't. But even though she kept telling herself this, she still found herself breathless and didn't dare examine why.
Much against her better judgement, she met his stare head on. Let him see that she was unmoved by him and his far too charming smile. She could outlast him in a battle of wills. She'd always been told she was stubborn. This was nothing different. But there was some sparkle in his eyes, some glimmer of knowledge, that told her this wasn't going to be as easy as she thought it would be.
They might have sat there and stared for hours had a flight attendant not put her hand on Barton's arm. "Sir? Miss? We've landed. You can disembark now," she told them.
A switch flipped and Alex let a hint of emotion touch her face. She leaned into him, making sure that she pressed a breast against his arm, and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. As she'd intended, it startled him enough that he pulled back from her. Gathering up her purse and carry on, Alex unclipped her seatbelt and rose to her feet. "Come on, honey. We need to collect our bags and pick up our rental. We want to get to Malibu before the sun goes down."
She made sure she turned to face him while she inched between his legs and the back of the seat in front of him. There was no missing the way his eyes rose up to her face, pausing a few seconds on the swell of her breasts under her t-shirt before lifting up to meet her gaze. She smiled at him, one that said she knew exactly what he was thinking, then slid out into the aisle. Barton released his seatbelt and came to his feet. In the same movement, he shifted out of the row so that he stood beside her. The bag he'd carried onto the plane was the only one left in the overhead compartment. She watched him reach for it, pretended she didn't see that he was posing for her as he did so. When he had it, she turned and started up the aisle.
It startled the living shit out of her when his hand settled on the small of her back, just above the waist of her jeans. Ignoring the heat of his palm burning through the thin fabric, she kept heading for the exit.
Once they'd cleared the gate and entered the airport proper, he slid his arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer to him. She might have pulled away, but he leaned in and once again treated her to warmth of his breath against her flesh and hair, the slight touch of his nose on her ear. "Go along with it, Quinn. Play the role."
She smiled and leaned closer so that she could whisper to him. "I'll make a deal with you. I'll agree to play the role if you'll agree to stop picturing me naked."
"Not naked, Quinn. In a bright purple thong bikini that barely covers anything."
"Keep dreaming, Barton," she replied. "That's the only way that will ever happen for you."
She thought he'd take offense at her brusque manner. Instead, he surprised her by tossing his head back and laughing at that. It was a good sound, rich and full, all joy and pleasure. It did funny things to her insides. "Lexi, baby. I can't wait to get you back to the beach house."
The comment was loud enough to draw attention their way. Alex felt her cheeks flame with color and heat. It was an appropriate reaction to his comment, she thought. She hoped. She wasn't really sure her brain was working at full speed because much of it seemed to be taken up with the feel of his arm resting with familiarity along her shoulders and the way his fingers curled into her arm. That same heat that had been at her back just a short time ago was now touching her arm. It did odd things to her equilibrium, made thinking hard to do.
Out of nowhere, his hip bumped hers. Alex lifted her gaze to his face to find him watching her out of the corner of his eye. "You need to relax and smile. You've got a look on your face right now that screams constipation. Keep it up and people will think you don't want to be here with me."
She held the sigh back and concentrated on erasing the look from her face. When she could feel that the frown was gone, she allowed her lips to curve up into a smile. Some of it was forced. Some of it was genuine. He wanted her to play the loving wife? Fine. She'd do just that. Two could play at that game.
Her move was so casual that he didn't even bother to register it. One arm slid across his back and, for just a moment, she considered putting her hand on his hip and leaving it at that. But he was so concerned that she play her role convincingly. It was the only reason she could account for what she did next. Her hand glided down his back, fingers lightly tracing the lean muscles laying under his flesh, until she found the curve where his back dipped in above his ass. She followed the way his cheek rounded under his jeans until she could tuck her fingers into the pocket resting over it.
She felt it when his muscles tensed, barely a second of time, then felt him relax and lean closer to her. She could see his face out of the corner of her eye, could see that the smile he wore was positively predatory. "Ah. I see how it is. Very well, then. Game's on, sweetheart."
Alex did not consider the strange thrill those words gave her.
Their first stop was the baggage claim to pick up the suitcases they'd checked in New York, as well as a couple of bags that had been checked for them. Things that contained items that required special permission to get onto a plane. Their personal equipment. Not that Alex thought they'd need weapons for this assignment, since they were simply here to spy. But that was no excuse not to be armed. She didn't go anywhere without her Glock. And a few other surprises.
Barton surprised her by reaching out and snagging her luggage when it rolled by them, piling it neatly at their feet until he was sure they had every last piece. There were more than a few, so they ended up getting a cart to haul them around on. After that, they headed off to find the rental counter so they could pick up their car. She was all for it, too. The sooner they could get away from people, the sooner she could stop acting like the sun shone out of his ass.
The clerk manning the counter at the car rental place was a perky young woman who took one look at Barton and promptly forgot that Alex was standing at his side. Her blonde hair was brassy and not her own. Her pale blue shirt strained over medically enhanced breasts and her too blue eyes, which she was fluttering shamelessly at Alex's partner, were no doubt the product of a pair of throw away contact lenses. She was flirting as if her life depended on it. And Barton was sucking it up. Feeling bitchy without knowing why, Alex decided to put an end to the whole thing and settled her left hand on Barton's arm. The one with the wedding band on it. The diamond caught the light. And the clerk's attention.
"Can't you hurry this up, baby? I really want to make it to our rental and hole up in the bedroom. I brought that sheer green negligee that Cindy gave me at my bachelorette party. I can't wait to put it on and show it to you." She made sure to give him what she hoped were bedroom eyes.
Something dark flickered in his gaze as he stared at her. She wasn't going to name it. Then it was gone and he was giving her that same knowing smile he'd given her on the plane. Barton gave his attention back to the woman on the other side of the counter. "You heard the wife. She's ready to go. Is our car ready, Barb?" he asked the woman politely. Just a hint of charm in his voice.
"Of course, Mr. Miller. If you'll just sign here and here," the woman laid a contract on the counter in front of him. Barton picked up the pen and signed where the woman indicated. Alex watched him to ensure that he signed the right damn name. He did. Barb took the papers from him and looked them over before ripping a copy from the pile. She folded it carefully, tucked it into one of those paper booklet thingies that the airlines like to use, then handed it and the keys over to him. The smile she turned on him was huge and warm. "You'll find your car in the lot just out those doors. Row four, space twenty. Enjoy your stay here in sunny California, Mr. Miller."
"I'm sure we will," he told her and wrapped his arm around Alex's shoulders again. "Honeymoon. You know how that goes."
"Well, that calls for congratulations," Barb said, her smile getting even bigger. Alex was reminded of a Pez dispenser. Alex flasher her own smile and nudged him with her hip. Barton gave the clerk a nod and turned, leading Alex away and toward the exit.
It was a relief to find their rental and load the luggage into it. Whoever had been in charge of the trip had secured them a brand new Dodge Challenger. Cherry red with black stripes running down the hood. Terribly low keyed. Though she supposed that it fit with their cover. A new car for a younger couple. Barton was busy looking for a road map in the bag he'd carried on to the plane, prompting Alex to sigh. She snagged the keys from the trunk's lock and headed for the driver's door. "Get in. I'll drive."
He looked up at her. "You know how to get to Malibu?"
She rolled her eyes at him. "I've been here a time or two. I think I can remember how to get to the beach."
Barton regarded her silently, as if reconsidering his assessment of her, then gave a shrug and slammed the trunk down before rounding the car and slipping in on the passenger's side. When Alex claimed her seat and turned over the engine, he turned and looked at her. "So are you going to make us dinner when we get back to the rental?"
She was tempted to ask him if he was going to eat without teeth. But that would be rude and it wasn't like he knew she didn't cook. "You don't want me to make you dinner, Barton. I--"
"Clint," he broke in to correct her. She flashed him a glance as she backed the car from the space. It was filled with curiosity. "My name is Clint. Maybe it would be a good idea if you used it."
Another smart assed retort rose to her lips, but she quashed it. He was, of course, correct. Alex sighed, shifted the car into gear, and eased forward. "You don't want me to make you dinner, Clint. My idea of gourmet cuisine is boiling water and not burning it."
"You don't cook?" She shook her head at his question, her attention turned fully to the road. "What do you do? Microwave everything? Or go through a drive thru?"
"No. I do not cook. Now silence would be lovely. The traffic here is murder and I'd like to get onto the highway without getting killed." He glanced at the cars zipping past them and nodded, falling to silence without saying another word. Alex was grateful for it, fully giving her attention to the road before her and the vehicles around her.
She was and wasn't surprised that her memories of Los Angeles were still sharp enough to allow her to find her way without the aid of a map. Her partner seemed content to remain silent and simply took in the scenery as it passed them by, one area of suburbia giving way to another only visible by the way the businesses and homes changed. She didn't know if he was truly caught up in his surroundings or if he sensed that she simply didn't want to talk and remained silent out of respect for her feelings. Not that it mattered. She was simply thankful that he didn't feel the need to fill the drive with small talk.
It was full dark when they arrived in Malibu. Only then did her companion begin speaking, and that was so that he could give her directions to the rental house they would be occupying. Lights shone brightly against the blackness of night as they made their way silently up the Pacific Coast Highway, a mix of businesses and homes crowding up against the road. Out her window, they could hear the ocean, see it between buildings as they drove past. Out his, there were more buildings and the black, looming shapes of mountains. She made note of several fast food joints as they passed. If he was hungry, he could always come back and pick something up.
The home that had been rented for them was a beach front number. They found it because it was the only one without lights shining against the darkness. Alex pulled the car across the PCH and into the driveway before the dark shape. Barton had the keys for the house, so she assigned herself to the task of unloading the trunk while he went inside and turned on lights.
She'd already started hauling the bags in when he came down from the second level to help. "Master bedroom on the right hand side. It overlooks the subject house. Cases of equipment are there. Almost everything has been set up." He picked up four of the bags and turned for the stairs. Alex followed behind him with her own four.
"I'll take first watch if you want to go find a place to grab a bite to eat," she told him. He paused at the top of the stairs to look at her over his shoulder.
"Sounds like a plan." She trailed after him down the hall, setting her bags down on the floor near the wall, out of the way. He was already on his way out the door. Since there were only two bags left down on the main floor, Alex began taking care of the few things that needed setting up. Someone had already set up the high powered telescope and the camera. Listening devices were at the ready, though she didn't know how that was going to work with a unit between their house and the suspected HYDRA hide out. By the time Barton returned with the last of the luggage, Alex was already settled in place.
"You have a preference?" he asked her.
"Food is food. I'm easy. No pickles if you get burgers, though."
"No pickles," he confirmed. Time ticked by and he still stood there. Watching her. She could feel his eyes on her back. Alex waved a hand at him.
"Go. I've got it. Turn the light out on your way out the door," she instructed. She heard him shift, as if he wasn't quite ready to move yet. Alex didn't look up at him. "Oh. Barton?"
"Yeah?" he asked.
"Quit staring at my ass." His laughter was still echoing in the bedroom when she heard the Challenger's engine come purring to life.
~*~*~*~*~
Miri sighed and took a moment to stretch the stiffness from her limbs. Seventeen hours on a plane sucked really hard and she was glad to finally have landed at Heathrow. It had been a long, long day and she wanted nothing more than to see a bed. But before she could do that, she had to pass through the customs check point, collect her luggage, check in with her contact from MI6, and then find her hotel. Knowing governments and bureaucracy as she did, that meant she'd probably just be climbing into bed when the sun was cresting the horizon tomorrow morning. Oh, yes. And she had to find a bathroom.
But all of that could wait until she made one phone call.
It was still fairly early and she was almost alone in the terminal, only a few people milling about before heading through customs, allowing her to pick a spot at random to set down her bags and dig out her cell phone. It was very late there, or extremely early, and she knew it, but she couldn't do anything else until she called Phil and let him know she'd arrived safely. Her finger hit a button. She tucked the phone up against her ear. The call dialed out. Miri put her shoulder against the wall and closed her eyes.
"Hello, Miriam." He sounded tired, like he'd been asleep. But that didn't matter. Just the soft tone of his voice was enough to send a shiver of want through her. Damn it. She hadn't even been gone a day and she already wished she was home again. "I take it you had no troubles with your flight?"
"No. It was long and boring. I spent my time reading through all of the material you gave me."
"Have you been to your hotel yet?" He barely got the question out before she heard him give a faint yawn.
"No. I just got off the plane. And I'm sorry," she apologized, immediately contrite. "I woke you. I should let you go so you can go back to sleep. Its, what? Two?"
"You didn't wake me," he promised her. "I was waiting for your call."
His words warmed her heart and she smiled, even though he couldn't see it. No doubt he knew she was smiling. He had an uncanny ability to just know what he did to her without having to see it. "I just wanted to check in. I still have to get through customs but I had to hear your voice."
It felt odd saying it. They'd never really discussed just what this thing was between them. Not once. She wasn't sure what he expected from her and she didn't really know how to broach the subject with him. There was something there, some nearly tangible sensation that curled around them which she didn't dare examine or name. She swore she could feel it and touch it and she was fairly certain that he could, too. But they never spoke of it. And she was, for the most part, content with things the way they were. Phil was a stabilizing foundation in her life when there would otherwise be chaos. He was comfort and safety, things she'd never admit aloud to needing.
"You should get moving. There's no telling how long it will take to make it through customs and you don't want to keep MI6 waiting." It was a subtle reminder that she needed to get moving so that she could go sleep. Phil was astute and observant. If she heard the sleep in his voice, he could hear it in hers. No matter how cheery she tried to sound. But she didn't want to hang up. She wanted to listen to his voice. She wished like hell he'd gotten to come with her. "Hang up the phone, Miriam. You need rest and so do I. You can call me again later, when you've had time to settle in and get some sleep."
He was right, of course. That didn't make it any easier to end the call. There was a long pause where silence stretched across the line and miles and ocean between them. Miri finally heaved a sigh. "Okay. Sleep well," she told him.
"Pleasant dreams."
I miss you. The line went dead even as she thought the words. Miri pushed upright and tucked her phone away. Then she hefted her carry on back up onto her shoulder and went off in search of her luggage. There were only a few people from her flight left gathered around the luggage carousel, waiting for the last of the bags. Miri spotted her thee cases easily as they drifted aimlessly along the belt. She snatched them up easily, shouldering the soft sided bag with the strap while carrying the other two in her hands. Exhaustion was starting to creep up her spine. Just a few more stops before she could hit her hotel bed. She could do this.
Mentally geared up, Miri turned and made for the customs counter.
The agent was a man and looked as if he had recently been sucking lemons. There was a bitterness to his face and the twist of his lips that she suspected he'd once applied to, and turned down by, the military or the Metropolitan police. Taking a job as a customs agent had obviously been a last crack at maintaining a position of authority. He was mad at the world and he planned on taking it out on Miri.
"Nature of your visit?" he asked in a crisp, tart tone as she approached him.
"Business," Miri returned in a frank tone. Even before he could ask, she laid out her passport on the counter in front of him. Then she added her personal and S.H.I.E.L.D. identification. The man stared at them all with intent eyes, as if he was looking for that one tiny flaw that would scream forgery. When he glanced up at her again, she could see that he was going to give her a hard time. He was just that kind of man. Another agent behind her was carefully pawing through her suitcases, looking for anything illicit or illegal. She was half tempted to let him know she'd left her crotchless panties, peek-a-boo bra that showed off her nipples, and ten inch vibrator back in New York City. But she was too tired to bother and she could clearly imagine the look on Fury's face when word got back to him that she was being a bitch.
"What's this, then?" he asked, stabbing a pork sausage finger at the card that identified her as a government agent. Joy. He was going to hate her simply because she'd reached goals he'd never manage to see. Miri held her temper and gave him a smile that said she knew he hated his life. She watched idly as the other agent began a search of the suitcase that held her weapon. She handed him the papers that gave her the authority to carry a weapon on the plane as well as in the United Kingdom. He gave them a cursory glance before handing them back with a brisk nod of his head.
"That's my business ID. I work for the American government. I'm here to meet up with members of the British government, to discuss matters of national security."
"I never heard of this S.H.I.E.L.D. organization," he told her.
"Of course you haven't. We aren't like the FBI or the CIA," she replied, one hand already reaching for her papers. She'd already have been through this mess if the agent questioning her wasn't carrying a chip on his shoulder the size of Alaska. Maybe she was going to have to be just a little bitchy. But a hand dropped onto her arm before she could turn over the official orders she carried and stopped her actions.
"Look here, mate," another voice drawled. Miri glanced up at the owner of said voice. Dark hair topped dark eyes that were regarding the customs agent with disdain. There was a faint curl to the newcomer's lips that suggested he thought the agent was pond scum. The hand that wasn't on Miri's arm dug into a battered leather jacket and pulled out a leather wallet that he flipped open and laid on the counter next to her ID. "No doubt you've heard of this agency, yeah?"
The agent's eyes widened upon seeing MI6 stamped on the card. "Of course, sir," the man stammered.
The newcomer's eyes flicked to Miri's ID a moment before returning to the agent's face. "Agent Grant is here to work with MI6. I suggest you clear her so that she can do that. Or shall I place a call to my superiors and you can explain to them why the expert they requested is still caught up in customs?" With that, the man drew a cell phone from his pocket and made a show of poking the numbered keys.
"Of course not, sir," the customs agent shook his head. One hand sought out his stamp and inked it while the other settled on the passport book to hold it open. Miri watched, slightly bemused, as the agent stamped her passport and handed it back without another word. She took it and tucked it away, followed by the two IDs she'd produced. Her liaison did the same with his own. Then she hauled the bag with the strap back up onto her shoulder and hefted the other two cases. The guy from MI6 took one from her wordlessly and motioned toward the exit with his head.
They walked together in silence. Despite the fact that it was still relatively early, the airport was starting to bustle with activity. They met more people and Miri saw faces from all over the world. Her liaison showed her to a door and, together, they escaped outside into still, cool morning air.
He came to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk and she did the same. She watched him put the suitcase down before he reached into his pockets and pulled out an abused pack of cigarettes. His hands shook one out. He put it to his lips even as he returned the pack to his pocket. This time, his hand came out with a lighter. A shiny Zippo. One finger flicked the top back before rolling the wheel. The flame sparked and he bent his head toward the lighter, lifted up so that the two points met somewhere in the middle, sucked hard and brought the cherry flaring to life. The lighter was closed, the flame cut off, and returned to his pocket.
"Pete Wisdom," he introduced himself, the words coming at her through a thin cloud of freshly exhaled tobacco smoke. He held out a hand. She shook it.
"Miriam Grant. Pleasure," she replied. So far, it wasn't. She just wanted sleep. "I don't suppose we can find some coffee some place? I think I might need some caffeine."
"Of course," he nodded, then leaned down to pick up the suitcase again. "I expect you're knackered. Orders are to head to MI6 for a debriefing. You'll be given all the information we have, along with a chance to study it. After that, I'll drop you at your hotel. If you'll follow me."
Miri hefted the case at her feet and followed him as he merged into a flow of humanity that was heading toward the parking structure and waiting cars. Voices chattered around her. Most held a British accent. Some were American. And there were others. French, German, Italian, Spanish, Greek, Hindi, Urdu, Farsi, Russian, Ukrainian, Japanese. People from all over the world. Eyes on Wisdom's back, she let the flood of their voices flow over her, basked in the many different languages. It was one aspect of her job of which she never tired. The constant flow of humanity.
Her escort showed her to a battered little Mini. It was dark blue and seemed to be much too small for even herself. But she helped him load her suitcases into the vehicle, then climbed into the passenger side when he opened the door for her. It felt just a touch odd to be sitting on the left without a steering wheel. Wisdom crossed around the back of the little car, then climbed in on the driver's side and slipped the key into the ignition. Despite its outward appearance, the little car came growling to life. Wisdom pulled it easily from the parking space.
She let her mind drift as he drove. He'd cracked one window so that the smoke from his cigarette was sucked out of the vehicle and away from her. Their first order of business was to find a coffee house and pick up a large, steaming cup of the dark stuff for Miri to sip on as they headed toward MI6 headquarters. It was stronger than she liked but it still tasted like heaven.
The scenery slid by them, a blur of lumbering buses and hurrying people and daring little cars. Some of the buildings were new, all glass and modern lines. Some of them were obviously old, squat little stone structures with small windows and a sense of grace. She saw tourist shops and food joints mingled with upscale businesses and private clubs. The streets were narrow and crazy. Despite the differences between London and New York, Miri felt welcomed.
They eventually pulled into a parking structure that had a rather stern looking guard at the gate. Wisdom showed the man his ID before the arm was lifted and the Mini was allowed to pass into the shadows of the structure. The headlights flipped on to cut the gloom, despite the lights set into the concrete over their heads. They drove in what felt like circles as the Mini climbed up three levels. It slipped easily into a parking space and the engine died. Wisdom turned to look at her across the narrow distance between them. "We can leave your luggage here for now. No one will muck about with it. Just bring your ID and your papers."
Miri nodded and tugged a thin brief case from her carry on bag. It held a slim laptop and a few files. She added her IDs and the papers she'd kept out for the trip through customs, closed the case, and climbed from the Mini.
Wisdom was standing at the back bumper, waiting on her while sucking on what had to have been his third cigarette since he'd picked her up. When she nodded that she was ready, he pivoted on his heel and started for a pair of steel doors set in the wall across the parking garage. She fell into step behind him and concentrated solely on putting one foot in front of the other. Not even the coffee was helping keep her eyes open at the moment.
Upon arriving at the elevator, Wisdom stubbed out his cigarette against the concrete flooring. One thumb jabbed at the call button. They waited for the car to arrive. He turned to look at her. "First trip to London?"
"I've been many places. My knowledge of HYDRA has earned me a few trips." It was a reply that didn't really answer his question and, judging by the look he gave her, he knew it. But he said nothing about it. The elevator dinged, announcing the car's arrival, and the doors opened. He allowed her to step in first, then followed her and hit a button on the panel. The lift lurched into motion and began to drop slowly down.
The doors opened on an underground walkway. Wisdom stepped out and turned left, leaving Miri to follow him. They made their way along the corridor until they came to a pair of glass doors. He opened one and allowed her through before stepping in after her. Together, the two of them approached a desk that seemingly guarded nothing. A smiling young woman was manning the desk, a computer just off to one side and a mutli-line phone off to the other. "Morning, Pete. Who's this, then?" the woman asked, her hands moving to rest on the keyboard of her computer.
"This is the agent from America. Miriam Grant," he introduced her to the woman, who was already clacking away at her keyboard. Miri produced her S.H.I.E.L.D. ID and handed it over to the woman. She watched as the receptionist studied the ID, scanned it, put it through some other machine, then studied it again. She handed it back, then handed over a clip on badge. 'Visitor' was written across the top in big, bold letters. But unlike normal visitor badges, this one had Miri's image on it. There was also her name and a few other lines that she suspected were related to her clearance level. She clipped the badge to the lapel of her suit coat.
"Welcome to MI6, Agent Grant," the woman said, then lifted the phone and dialed a code in. A panel to their right swung open to reveal yet another hallway. "Enjoy your stay in London."
Miri smiled at her. "Thank you."
"This way," Pete motioned toward the opening. Miri followed him through the door and into the hall. The door swung closed with a soft shushing noise. It was a short corridor, only a few feet long. And there were no doors in this hall except for the one at the end. It opened for them before they reached it.
It took one more elevator ride and a walk down another hallway before she was finally face to face with the director of MI6. Pete had led her into a conference room with a large display screen on one side of it. Director Williams and three other men were already seated around the conference table. All four of them rose when she entered the room.
"Agent Grant. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Director Fury has assured me that you are the very best source of knowledge on HYDRA that he possesses. It is our fervent hope that you can make sense of the files we found at the base," the man said as he shook her hand. Miri took a moment to look him over.
He was middle aged and still lean, as if he liked to work in the field. Hair that had originally been brilliant red was now softened with grey and there were lines around kindly blue eyes that looked to be more from laughing than loss. His handshake was firm without being threatening and he was dressed in a very nice, yet not terribly expensive, suit. One hand motioned toward the chairs and Miri took a seat. Director Williams reclaimed his seat. "I trust you had a pleasant flight?" he inquired.
"It was long. As interested as I am in this base, I'll be glad to see my hotel."
"Of course. I expect you're quite tired. Let's get on with this, shall we?" A nod of his head saw the screen come flickering to life. Even as Miri stared at an arial shot of the base that was creating the buzz, Director Williams was handing her the names of the other three men. Agent Frank Carter, the MI6 expert on HYDRA. Agent Nigel Harkness, the man who had actually found the base. And Agent Derek Langdon, who was actually more a scientist and who was interested in some of the files that appeared to contain information on experiments that HYDRA had been running.
It was Langdon that handed her a small stack of files to go over, which Miri did as the director explained how it was they'd found the base and that it looked to have been in use not that long ago. She poured over the files as the men talked, using a legal pad and pencil she'd pulled from her brief case to jot down notes and ideas as they occurred to her.
There was much more information than she'd expected and, by the time the debriefing was done, she had at least six pages of notes. Names, places, events, things that wouldn't have been seen as important to anyone who didn't know HYDRA the way she did. "You and Agent Wisdom will be going to Scotland tomorrow to have a good look at this base," Williams told her. She glanced up at him and nodded. "We need to know how long they've been using this location. What they might have planned. Anything and everything you can tell us about it."
"Of course, sir," Miri nodded and began tucking her files into her briefcase. She was sure she was missing something important based solely on what she'd been told so far. But there was no telling what it was and she likely wouldn't know until she got a good look at the base. A surreptitious glance at her watch told her it was well past midday. As if suddenly realizing that she'd been hours without food, her stomach rumbled at her in protest. "If there's nothing else?"
"No. Nothing else. I'll have Wisdom take you to your hotel. Plans have already been made so there's no reason to worry about that. We'll have a car round first thing in the morning to fetch you. Is that acceptable?"
"Very acceptable, sir," Miri replied. She rose from her seat and picked up her briefcase. The other men rose with her and each of them offered her a hand. She shook them all. "I'll study these files more in depth tonight."
"Very good, Grant." Williams nodded at that, then escorted her to the door. Wisdom followed her out into the hallway where he took the lead and began tracing their steps back the way they'd come. Now that it was all over, Miri was looking forward to checking into her hotel. She wanted to eat something, then tumble into bed and sleep for the rest of the day. And possibly shower. She was pretty sure she really needed a shower.
"You want to pick something up on the way to the hotel or do you want to order room service?" Wisdom asked once they'd hit the elevator. She gave him a chagrinned look.
"Did everyone hear it?"
He flashed her a smile that seemed to be all teeth and shook his head. "Common sense, luv. You've been on a plane for nearly a day. You're bound to be tired and hungry. So take out or room service?"
"Take out. I don't know if I've got the patience to wait for room service."
"Right, then," he nodded.
The ride to her hotel was made in near silence. Wisdom smoked like a chimney and asked her questions about her life in the States. Nothing probative, mostly small talk. She answered him, if only to keep herself from falling asleep in the car. They found a place to get some take out, a fast food burger joint she was familiar with. When the food was passed over to her, the smell of it assaulted her nose and brought another rumble from her stomach. She flushed with embarrassment when Wisdom laughed at that. But he nodded his head and gave her permission to eat in the car. By the time he'd pulled up in a car park next to her hotel, the food and drink had been devoured.
Pete helped carry her luggage in and waited at the front desk while she checked herself in. The man who did so summoned a bell boy to help her with her bags, freeing Wisdom up. "I'll be round in the morning to fetch you. I'll call from the lobby to let you know I'm here. That arrangement okay with you?"
"That's perfect. Thank you for hauling me around town. I appreciate it."
Her words earned her a smile that seemed a touch too warm and friendly. "Not a problem, luv. Enjoy your sleep. See you tomorrow." He disappeared without another word. Miri shook off the feelings she got from him and allowed the bell boy to escort her up to her room. She offered him a large tip for his service, then closed the door in his face and headed for the shower.
After nearly falling asleep in the shower, Miri stumbled from the cubicle and hastily dried herself off. She slid into a fresh pair of panties and a long, plain white shirt she'd stolen from Phil. It still smelled of him. His scent surrounded her and she could almost feel his arms wrapped around her. She dragged her cell phone from her bag and took it with her to the bed.
She wanted to call him. He'd be at work, all neat and tidy in his suit and tie. She wanted to call him and say all kinds of dirty things to him. Wanted to hear his breath quicken and those little sounds he made when he was in the throes of passion. She even made to dial his number, intent on calling him and coaxing phone sex out of him.
But her head touched the pillow and exhaustion took her. She was lost in sleep before she could even finish her thoughts.
Chapter Five: On the Job
Fandom: something like the Marvel Universe, leaning mostly toward the Movie!Avengers branch
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: lots of sex and violence, language, anything else i can toss in. probably some drinking.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel and whoever the hell else owns them.. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the Sues are the sole property of their originators,
dazzledfirestar, mistress_o_muse, ginevrasm, rylan_m, and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.The Mary Sue Virus: Lights, Camera, Avengers! - The Index
Alex ignored him. It had started the moment she had left Coulson's office, cursing the man up and down with every unkind thing she could think of. She'd even made up some shit. It had carried on for the drive to her apartment to pack her bags. Barton had offered her a ride and she'd tried to turn him down, told him she'd planned on catching a cab to her house and then to the airport. But he'd insisted, telling her that it was pointless and a waste of money to take a cab when they were both going to the same destination, and she'd found herself in the front seat of some four door sedan that was in desperate need of a tune up. The engine had made noises that had set her teeth on edge.
She'd ignored his presence at her apartment while she'd packed up everything she'd need. She'd ignored him when they'd gotten back in the car and gone to his place to collect his things. She'd ignored him all the way to the airport, in the check in line, in the terminal. When they'd boarded the plane. All through the flight attendants' pre-flight spiel.
Not that he hadn't tried to engage her in conversation. Because he had. But after she'd called him a pain in the ass for the fifth time, he'd subsided into silence and had only regarded her curiously out of the corner of his eyes when he'd thought she wasn't paying attention. And as soon as they'd gotten the okay to use small electronics, she'd whipped out her MP3 player and plugged the headphones in. Then she'd turned her attention to the file Coulson had given her.
That plain manila envelope contained all of the information she needed to know. Some agents had reported that there were strange goings on at a rental property in Malibu and some observation had turned up a few well known gun runners showing up on the place's door step. One or two people had been positively identified as HYDRA members. Because these agents were really little more than low level peons, the job of spying and reporting on these HYDRA agents had been turned over to agents with more training and experience. And a higher clearance level. Peachy. Just what she wanted to do. Play I Spy with Barton.
Coulson was a sick, sick bastard. And Alex was going to hire a prostitute for his next birthday party. A male prostitute.
For the purposes of their mission, Alex and Barton were a newly married couple on a quick honeymoon to the West Coast. Alexis and Clint Miller had only gotten married a few months ago, the ceremony performed by a Justice of the Peace in New York City and hadn't been able to get away until now. There were documents to prove it. There were also New York State driver's licenses with their names on them. All of their papers were in the name Miller, as was a credit card. There was paper money, too. And the name of a rental property in Malibu only a few doors down from the place that HYDRA was supposed to be using.
Alex sorted through the papers, committing to memory pieces of her and Barton's lives in the off event anyone asked. And, knowing people, they would. Things like where they'd met. How long they'd gone out before he'd popped the question. What they'd worn for their simple civil ceremony. They even had a dog in New York. He was being housed at a kennel while they enjoyed the sun and surf.
She made quick work of switching her real identification for the fake, slipping her license and other cards into a small wallet she owned for just such purposes. The wallet that carried her real identification in it was hidden away in a small pocket in her carry on. She accepted a meal from the flight attendant when the time came, along with a Coke, and went right back to ignoring him. At least until the plane finally started coming in for a landing at LAX.
"We're getting ready to land. You have to turn that off." His fingers deftly plucked the little bud from her ear and dropped it in her lap. The light and airy strains of The Mediaeval Baebes floated up from the piece of plastic, earning her a confused look. Alex shot him a glare, then reached up and turned the music off. She made a show of tucking the MP3 player into her bag before turning to stare out the small oval window.
Streets and highways were coming into focus, lines that ran north and south and east and west. Lines that cut the city into physical grids. Buildings of varying shapes and sizes perched between the lines, clinging to their individual plots of land in an attempt to attract the attention of those around them. All kinds of vehicles, small metallic bugs that were growing larger and taking shape, were moving rapidly along those grid lines. Zooming back and forth like an ant hill that had been disturbed and turned over. The sun, still shining here, was edging toward the horizon, but was still high enough to bounce its brilliance off every gleaming metal and glass surface. The world was cloaked in living, breathing, liquid sunlight that sparkled and moved like the ocean.
Los Angeles. Alive. Busy. Hectic. Laid back. An entity unto itself. A vast, crawling expanse of urban decay that was always changing. To her, it looked the same. The same tall buildings, sitting blind in the sun. The same mad dash of vehicles that were always going some place in a rush. The same crowded sensation. It still looked exactly the way it had some decade ago, when she'd last been here. She could almost smell the smog hanging heavy on the air.
The captain was giving his last minute talk about the weather conditions in the city of Lost Angels. Sunny. Warm. Windy. Mild. Alex tuned it out and simply stared at the sea of pavement below them that grew and grew as they neared the ground. Pushed away the memories of the last time she'd been here. That was the past, over and done with. No need to let it see the light of day again.
The wheels hit the tarmac, jolting her from her thoughts as her body rocked in her seat. She had a second to realize that Barton was closer to her than she was comfortable with before he spoke. "You can't ignore me the entire time we're here," His voice was soft in her ear, his breath warm against her hair and skin. She fought not to shudder with sudden sensation. The tip of his nose slid along the curve of her ear, telling her he was so close that it would likely appear to people that they were sharing secrets. "We're working together, posing at newlyweds. It'll look funny if you don't talk to me. Smile at me. Kiss me."
She turned her head, ever so slightly, so he could see the look on her face. And she offered him a smile, one filled with such sugary sweet falseness that it saw him pulling back. Just a little bit. "I never, ever kiss on a job. And even if I did, I wouldn't kiss you," she told him in a soft whisper. "If we're in public for extended periods of time, I will act the loving wife. But that is a big if, mister."
"Is there a reason you don't like me? Did I date your sister and dump her? Do I have bad breath? Is there a piece of steak stuck in my teeth?" The last was an attempt at levity.
"I don't have a sister. If I had, and you'd dumped her, my brothers would have taken turns kicking your ass for hurting her. You do not have bad breath. There is no steak stuck in your teeth because you didn't have steak to eat." She stared him in the eyes and let her smile get bigger. "I need no reason to like or dislike you. This is business and I make it a policy to not get involved in any kind of physical relationship with people I work with. We're here to work. That doesn't require that I like you. It only requires that I do my job. That is all. Nothing else."
The plane was slowing, pulling into the terminal. People were already standing in order to collect their belongings so they could get out of the confining metal tube. Barton kept staring at her, his eyes searching her face as if he could find something there that would explain her to him. "Did someone do this to you?" he finally asked.
"Do what?" The intensity of his gaze left her uncomfortable. She had to resist the urge to squirm in her seat. She didn't like that he seemed to see something.
"Make you this hard assed? Did someone hurt you or do something horrible to you? Because I can't think of ever being in the presence of a pricklier female than you."
"No one did anything to me. Perhaps this is simply my reaction to you." The line of people crowding the aisle had already started moving and most of the passengers were well past their row of seats. She knew he was aware of their progress. He wouldn't be part of the Avengers team if he wasn't. But he made no move to rise from his seat. He simply sat there, staring at her. It made Alex distinctly uncomfortable.
"Sorry, sweetheart. I don't buy it. There's something going on here. Something I don't know about. But don't worry. I'll figure it out. Just give me time." A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. Alex tried to ignore it, but there was something in his smile that caught her and held her. That smile... it made him look younger. Made her feel welcome and wanted. No one had looked at her like that in a long time and it made her heart pound, just a little, in her chest. She couldn't find him attractive. She just couldn't. But even though she kept telling herself this, she still found herself breathless and didn't dare examine why.
Much against her better judgement, she met his stare head on. Let him see that she was unmoved by him and his far too charming smile. She could outlast him in a battle of wills. She'd always been told she was stubborn. This was nothing different. But there was some sparkle in his eyes, some glimmer of knowledge, that told her this wasn't going to be as easy as she thought it would be.
They might have sat there and stared for hours had a flight attendant not put her hand on Barton's arm. "Sir? Miss? We've landed. You can disembark now," she told them.
A switch flipped and Alex let a hint of emotion touch her face. She leaned into him, making sure that she pressed a breast against his arm, and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. As she'd intended, it startled him enough that he pulled back from her. Gathering up her purse and carry on, Alex unclipped her seatbelt and rose to her feet. "Come on, honey. We need to collect our bags and pick up our rental. We want to get to Malibu before the sun goes down."
She made sure she turned to face him while she inched between his legs and the back of the seat in front of him. There was no missing the way his eyes rose up to her face, pausing a few seconds on the swell of her breasts under her t-shirt before lifting up to meet her gaze. She smiled at him, one that said she knew exactly what he was thinking, then slid out into the aisle. Barton released his seatbelt and came to his feet. In the same movement, he shifted out of the row so that he stood beside her. The bag he'd carried onto the plane was the only one left in the overhead compartment. She watched him reach for it, pretended she didn't see that he was posing for her as he did so. When he had it, she turned and started up the aisle.
It startled the living shit out of her when his hand settled on the small of her back, just above the waist of her jeans. Ignoring the heat of his palm burning through the thin fabric, she kept heading for the exit.
Once they'd cleared the gate and entered the airport proper, he slid his arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer to him. She might have pulled away, but he leaned in and once again treated her to warmth of his breath against her flesh and hair, the slight touch of his nose on her ear. "Go along with it, Quinn. Play the role."
She smiled and leaned closer so that she could whisper to him. "I'll make a deal with you. I'll agree to play the role if you'll agree to stop picturing me naked."
"Not naked, Quinn. In a bright purple thong bikini that barely covers anything."
"Keep dreaming, Barton," she replied. "That's the only way that will ever happen for you."
She thought he'd take offense at her brusque manner. Instead, he surprised her by tossing his head back and laughing at that. It was a good sound, rich and full, all joy and pleasure. It did funny things to her insides. "Lexi, baby. I can't wait to get you back to the beach house."
The comment was loud enough to draw attention their way. Alex felt her cheeks flame with color and heat. It was an appropriate reaction to his comment, she thought. She hoped. She wasn't really sure her brain was working at full speed because much of it seemed to be taken up with the feel of his arm resting with familiarity along her shoulders and the way his fingers curled into her arm. That same heat that had been at her back just a short time ago was now touching her arm. It did odd things to her equilibrium, made thinking hard to do.
Out of nowhere, his hip bumped hers. Alex lifted her gaze to his face to find him watching her out of the corner of his eye. "You need to relax and smile. You've got a look on your face right now that screams constipation. Keep it up and people will think you don't want to be here with me."
She held the sigh back and concentrated on erasing the look from her face. When she could feel that the frown was gone, she allowed her lips to curve up into a smile. Some of it was forced. Some of it was genuine. He wanted her to play the loving wife? Fine. She'd do just that. Two could play at that game.
Her move was so casual that he didn't even bother to register it. One arm slid across his back and, for just a moment, she considered putting her hand on his hip and leaving it at that. But he was so concerned that she play her role convincingly. It was the only reason she could account for what she did next. Her hand glided down his back, fingers lightly tracing the lean muscles laying under his flesh, until she found the curve where his back dipped in above his ass. She followed the way his cheek rounded under his jeans until she could tuck her fingers into the pocket resting over it.
She felt it when his muscles tensed, barely a second of time, then felt him relax and lean closer to her. She could see his face out of the corner of her eye, could see that the smile he wore was positively predatory. "Ah. I see how it is. Very well, then. Game's on, sweetheart."
Alex did not consider the strange thrill those words gave her.
Their first stop was the baggage claim to pick up the suitcases they'd checked in New York, as well as a couple of bags that had been checked for them. Things that contained items that required special permission to get onto a plane. Their personal equipment. Not that Alex thought they'd need weapons for this assignment, since they were simply here to spy. But that was no excuse not to be armed. She didn't go anywhere without her Glock. And a few other surprises.
Barton surprised her by reaching out and snagging her luggage when it rolled by them, piling it neatly at their feet until he was sure they had every last piece. There were more than a few, so they ended up getting a cart to haul them around on. After that, they headed off to find the rental counter so they could pick up their car. She was all for it, too. The sooner they could get away from people, the sooner she could stop acting like the sun shone out of his ass.
The clerk manning the counter at the car rental place was a perky young woman who took one look at Barton and promptly forgot that Alex was standing at his side. Her blonde hair was brassy and not her own. Her pale blue shirt strained over medically enhanced breasts and her too blue eyes, which she was fluttering shamelessly at Alex's partner, were no doubt the product of a pair of throw away contact lenses. She was flirting as if her life depended on it. And Barton was sucking it up. Feeling bitchy without knowing why, Alex decided to put an end to the whole thing and settled her left hand on Barton's arm. The one with the wedding band on it. The diamond caught the light. And the clerk's attention.
"Can't you hurry this up, baby? I really want to make it to our rental and hole up in the bedroom. I brought that sheer green negligee that Cindy gave me at my bachelorette party. I can't wait to put it on and show it to you." She made sure to give him what she hoped were bedroom eyes.
Something dark flickered in his gaze as he stared at her. She wasn't going to name it. Then it was gone and he was giving her that same knowing smile he'd given her on the plane. Barton gave his attention back to the woman on the other side of the counter. "You heard the wife. She's ready to go. Is our car ready, Barb?" he asked the woman politely. Just a hint of charm in his voice.
"Of course, Mr. Miller. If you'll just sign here and here," the woman laid a contract on the counter in front of him. Barton picked up the pen and signed where the woman indicated. Alex watched him to ensure that he signed the right damn name. He did. Barb took the papers from him and looked them over before ripping a copy from the pile. She folded it carefully, tucked it into one of those paper booklet thingies that the airlines like to use, then handed it and the keys over to him. The smile she turned on him was huge and warm. "You'll find your car in the lot just out those doors. Row four, space twenty. Enjoy your stay here in sunny California, Mr. Miller."
"I'm sure we will," he told her and wrapped his arm around Alex's shoulders again. "Honeymoon. You know how that goes."
"Well, that calls for congratulations," Barb said, her smile getting even bigger. Alex was reminded of a Pez dispenser. Alex flasher her own smile and nudged him with her hip. Barton gave the clerk a nod and turned, leading Alex away and toward the exit.
It was a relief to find their rental and load the luggage into it. Whoever had been in charge of the trip had secured them a brand new Dodge Challenger. Cherry red with black stripes running down the hood. Terribly low keyed. Though she supposed that it fit with their cover. A new car for a younger couple. Barton was busy looking for a road map in the bag he'd carried on to the plane, prompting Alex to sigh. She snagged the keys from the trunk's lock and headed for the driver's door. "Get in. I'll drive."
He looked up at her. "You know how to get to Malibu?"
She rolled her eyes at him. "I've been here a time or two. I think I can remember how to get to the beach."
Barton regarded her silently, as if reconsidering his assessment of her, then gave a shrug and slammed the trunk down before rounding the car and slipping in on the passenger's side. When Alex claimed her seat and turned over the engine, he turned and looked at her. "So are you going to make us dinner when we get back to the rental?"
She was tempted to ask him if he was going to eat without teeth. But that would be rude and it wasn't like he knew she didn't cook. "You don't want me to make you dinner, Barton. I--"
"Clint," he broke in to correct her. She flashed him a glance as she backed the car from the space. It was filled with curiosity. "My name is Clint. Maybe it would be a good idea if you used it."
Another smart assed retort rose to her lips, but she quashed it. He was, of course, correct. Alex sighed, shifted the car into gear, and eased forward. "You don't want me to make you dinner, Clint. My idea of gourmet cuisine is boiling water and not burning it."
"You don't cook?" She shook her head at his question, her attention turned fully to the road. "What do you do? Microwave everything? Or go through a drive thru?"
"No. I do not cook. Now silence would be lovely. The traffic here is murder and I'd like to get onto the highway without getting killed." He glanced at the cars zipping past them and nodded, falling to silence without saying another word. Alex was grateful for it, fully giving her attention to the road before her and the vehicles around her.
She was and wasn't surprised that her memories of Los Angeles were still sharp enough to allow her to find her way without the aid of a map. Her partner seemed content to remain silent and simply took in the scenery as it passed them by, one area of suburbia giving way to another only visible by the way the businesses and homes changed. She didn't know if he was truly caught up in his surroundings or if he sensed that she simply didn't want to talk and remained silent out of respect for her feelings. Not that it mattered. She was simply thankful that he didn't feel the need to fill the drive with small talk.
It was full dark when they arrived in Malibu. Only then did her companion begin speaking, and that was so that he could give her directions to the rental house they would be occupying. Lights shone brightly against the blackness of night as they made their way silently up the Pacific Coast Highway, a mix of businesses and homes crowding up against the road. Out her window, they could hear the ocean, see it between buildings as they drove past. Out his, there were more buildings and the black, looming shapes of mountains. She made note of several fast food joints as they passed. If he was hungry, he could always come back and pick something up.
The home that had been rented for them was a beach front number. They found it because it was the only one without lights shining against the darkness. Alex pulled the car across the PCH and into the driveway before the dark shape. Barton had the keys for the house, so she assigned herself to the task of unloading the trunk while he went inside and turned on lights.
She'd already started hauling the bags in when he came down from the second level to help. "Master bedroom on the right hand side. It overlooks the subject house. Cases of equipment are there. Almost everything has been set up." He picked up four of the bags and turned for the stairs. Alex followed behind him with her own four.
"I'll take first watch if you want to go find a place to grab a bite to eat," she told him. He paused at the top of the stairs to look at her over his shoulder.
"Sounds like a plan." She trailed after him down the hall, setting her bags down on the floor near the wall, out of the way. He was already on his way out the door. Since there were only two bags left down on the main floor, Alex began taking care of the few things that needed setting up. Someone had already set up the high powered telescope and the camera. Listening devices were at the ready, though she didn't know how that was going to work with a unit between their house and the suspected HYDRA hide out. By the time Barton returned with the last of the luggage, Alex was already settled in place.
"You have a preference?" he asked her.
"Food is food. I'm easy. No pickles if you get burgers, though."
"No pickles," he confirmed. Time ticked by and he still stood there. Watching her. She could feel his eyes on her back. Alex waved a hand at him.
"Go. I've got it. Turn the light out on your way out the door," she instructed. She heard him shift, as if he wasn't quite ready to move yet. Alex didn't look up at him. "Oh. Barton?"
"Yeah?" he asked.
"Quit staring at my ass." His laughter was still echoing in the bedroom when she heard the Challenger's engine come purring to life.
~*~*~*~*~
Miri sighed and took a moment to stretch the stiffness from her limbs. Seventeen hours on a plane sucked really hard and she was glad to finally have landed at Heathrow. It had been a long, long day and she wanted nothing more than to see a bed. But before she could do that, she had to pass through the customs check point, collect her luggage, check in with her contact from MI6, and then find her hotel. Knowing governments and bureaucracy as she did, that meant she'd probably just be climbing into bed when the sun was cresting the horizon tomorrow morning. Oh, yes. And she had to find a bathroom.
But all of that could wait until she made one phone call.
It was still fairly early and she was almost alone in the terminal, only a few people milling about before heading through customs, allowing her to pick a spot at random to set down her bags and dig out her cell phone. It was very late there, or extremely early, and she knew it, but she couldn't do anything else until she called Phil and let him know she'd arrived safely. Her finger hit a button. She tucked the phone up against her ear. The call dialed out. Miri put her shoulder against the wall and closed her eyes.
"Hello, Miriam." He sounded tired, like he'd been asleep. But that didn't matter. Just the soft tone of his voice was enough to send a shiver of want through her. Damn it. She hadn't even been gone a day and she already wished she was home again. "I take it you had no troubles with your flight?"
"No. It was long and boring. I spent my time reading through all of the material you gave me."
"Have you been to your hotel yet?" He barely got the question out before she heard him give a faint yawn.
"No. I just got off the plane. And I'm sorry," she apologized, immediately contrite. "I woke you. I should let you go so you can go back to sleep. Its, what? Two?"
"You didn't wake me," he promised her. "I was waiting for your call."
His words warmed her heart and she smiled, even though he couldn't see it. No doubt he knew she was smiling. He had an uncanny ability to just know what he did to her without having to see it. "I just wanted to check in. I still have to get through customs but I had to hear your voice."
It felt odd saying it. They'd never really discussed just what this thing was between them. Not once. She wasn't sure what he expected from her and she didn't really know how to broach the subject with him. There was something there, some nearly tangible sensation that curled around them which she didn't dare examine or name. She swore she could feel it and touch it and she was fairly certain that he could, too. But they never spoke of it. And she was, for the most part, content with things the way they were. Phil was a stabilizing foundation in her life when there would otherwise be chaos. He was comfort and safety, things she'd never admit aloud to needing.
"You should get moving. There's no telling how long it will take to make it through customs and you don't want to keep MI6 waiting." It was a subtle reminder that she needed to get moving so that she could go sleep. Phil was astute and observant. If she heard the sleep in his voice, he could hear it in hers. No matter how cheery she tried to sound. But she didn't want to hang up. She wanted to listen to his voice. She wished like hell he'd gotten to come with her. "Hang up the phone, Miriam. You need rest and so do I. You can call me again later, when you've had time to settle in and get some sleep."
He was right, of course. That didn't make it any easier to end the call. There was a long pause where silence stretched across the line and miles and ocean between them. Miri finally heaved a sigh. "Okay. Sleep well," she told him.
"Pleasant dreams."
I miss you. The line went dead even as she thought the words. Miri pushed upright and tucked her phone away. Then she hefted her carry on back up onto her shoulder and went off in search of her luggage. There were only a few people from her flight left gathered around the luggage carousel, waiting for the last of the bags. Miri spotted her thee cases easily as they drifted aimlessly along the belt. She snatched them up easily, shouldering the soft sided bag with the strap while carrying the other two in her hands. Exhaustion was starting to creep up her spine. Just a few more stops before she could hit her hotel bed. She could do this.
Mentally geared up, Miri turned and made for the customs counter.
The agent was a man and looked as if he had recently been sucking lemons. There was a bitterness to his face and the twist of his lips that she suspected he'd once applied to, and turned down by, the military or the Metropolitan police. Taking a job as a customs agent had obviously been a last crack at maintaining a position of authority. He was mad at the world and he planned on taking it out on Miri.
"Nature of your visit?" he asked in a crisp, tart tone as she approached him.
"Business," Miri returned in a frank tone. Even before he could ask, she laid out her passport on the counter in front of him. Then she added her personal and S.H.I.E.L.D. identification. The man stared at them all with intent eyes, as if he was looking for that one tiny flaw that would scream forgery. When he glanced up at her again, she could see that he was going to give her a hard time. He was just that kind of man. Another agent behind her was carefully pawing through her suitcases, looking for anything illicit or illegal. She was half tempted to let him know she'd left her crotchless panties, peek-a-boo bra that showed off her nipples, and ten inch vibrator back in New York City. But she was too tired to bother and she could clearly imagine the look on Fury's face when word got back to him that she was being a bitch.
"What's this, then?" he asked, stabbing a pork sausage finger at the card that identified her as a government agent. Joy. He was going to hate her simply because she'd reached goals he'd never manage to see. Miri held her temper and gave him a smile that said she knew he hated his life. She watched idly as the other agent began a search of the suitcase that held her weapon. She handed him the papers that gave her the authority to carry a weapon on the plane as well as in the United Kingdom. He gave them a cursory glance before handing them back with a brisk nod of his head.
"That's my business ID. I work for the American government. I'm here to meet up with members of the British government, to discuss matters of national security."
"I never heard of this S.H.I.E.L.D. organization," he told her.
"Of course you haven't. We aren't like the FBI or the CIA," she replied, one hand already reaching for her papers. She'd already have been through this mess if the agent questioning her wasn't carrying a chip on his shoulder the size of Alaska. Maybe she was going to have to be just a little bitchy. But a hand dropped onto her arm before she could turn over the official orders she carried and stopped her actions.
"Look here, mate," another voice drawled. Miri glanced up at the owner of said voice. Dark hair topped dark eyes that were regarding the customs agent with disdain. There was a faint curl to the newcomer's lips that suggested he thought the agent was pond scum. The hand that wasn't on Miri's arm dug into a battered leather jacket and pulled out a leather wallet that he flipped open and laid on the counter next to her ID. "No doubt you've heard of this agency, yeah?"
The agent's eyes widened upon seeing MI6 stamped on the card. "Of course, sir," the man stammered.
The newcomer's eyes flicked to Miri's ID a moment before returning to the agent's face. "Agent Grant is here to work with MI6. I suggest you clear her so that she can do that. Or shall I place a call to my superiors and you can explain to them why the expert they requested is still caught up in customs?" With that, the man drew a cell phone from his pocket and made a show of poking the numbered keys.
"Of course not, sir," the customs agent shook his head. One hand sought out his stamp and inked it while the other settled on the passport book to hold it open. Miri watched, slightly bemused, as the agent stamped her passport and handed it back without another word. She took it and tucked it away, followed by the two IDs she'd produced. Her liaison did the same with his own. Then she hauled the bag with the strap back up onto her shoulder and hefted the other two cases. The guy from MI6 took one from her wordlessly and motioned toward the exit with his head.
They walked together in silence. Despite the fact that it was still relatively early, the airport was starting to bustle with activity. They met more people and Miri saw faces from all over the world. Her liaison showed her to a door and, together, they escaped outside into still, cool morning air.
He came to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk and she did the same. She watched him put the suitcase down before he reached into his pockets and pulled out an abused pack of cigarettes. His hands shook one out. He put it to his lips even as he returned the pack to his pocket. This time, his hand came out with a lighter. A shiny Zippo. One finger flicked the top back before rolling the wheel. The flame sparked and he bent his head toward the lighter, lifted up so that the two points met somewhere in the middle, sucked hard and brought the cherry flaring to life. The lighter was closed, the flame cut off, and returned to his pocket.
"Pete Wisdom," he introduced himself, the words coming at her through a thin cloud of freshly exhaled tobacco smoke. He held out a hand. She shook it.
"Miriam Grant. Pleasure," she replied. So far, it wasn't. She just wanted sleep. "I don't suppose we can find some coffee some place? I think I might need some caffeine."
"Of course," he nodded, then leaned down to pick up the suitcase again. "I expect you're knackered. Orders are to head to MI6 for a debriefing. You'll be given all the information we have, along with a chance to study it. After that, I'll drop you at your hotel. If you'll follow me."
Miri hefted the case at her feet and followed him as he merged into a flow of humanity that was heading toward the parking structure and waiting cars. Voices chattered around her. Most held a British accent. Some were American. And there were others. French, German, Italian, Spanish, Greek, Hindi, Urdu, Farsi, Russian, Ukrainian, Japanese. People from all over the world. Eyes on Wisdom's back, she let the flood of their voices flow over her, basked in the many different languages. It was one aspect of her job of which she never tired. The constant flow of humanity.
Her escort showed her to a battered little Mini. It was dark blue and seemed to be much too small for even herself. But she helped him load her suitcases into the vehicle, then climbed into the passenger side when he opened the door for her. It felt just a touch odd to be sitting on the left without a steering wheel. Wisdom crossed around the back of the little car, then climbed in on the driver's side and slipped the key into the ignition. Despite its outward appearance, the little car came growling to life. Wisdom pulled it easily from the parking space.
She let her mind drift as he drove. He'd cracked one window so that the smoke from his cigarette was sucked out of the vehicle and away from her. Their first order of business was to find a coffee house and pick up a large, steaming cup of the dark stuff for Miri to sip on as they headed toward MI6 headquarters. It was stronger than she liked but it still tasted like heaven.
The scenery slid by them, a blur of lumbering buses and hurrying people and daring little cars. Some of the buildings were new, all glass and modern lines. Some of them were obviously old, squat little stone structures with small windows and a sense of grace. She saw tourist shops and food joints mingled with upscale businesses and private clubs. The streets were narrow and crazy. Despite the differences between London and New York, Miri felt welcomed.
They eventually pulled into a parking structure that had a rather stern looking guard at the gate. Wisdom showed the man his ID before the arm was lifted and the Mini was allowed to pass into the shadows of the structure. The headlights flipped on to cut the gloom, despite the lights set into the concrete over their heads. They drove in what felt like circles as the Mini climbed up three levels. It slipped easily into a parking space and the engine died. Wisdom turned to look at her across the narrow distance between them. "We can leave your luggage here for now. No one will muck about with it. Just bring your ID and your papers."
Miri nodded and tugged a thin brief case from her carry on bag. It held a slim laptop and a few files. She added her IDs and the papers she'd kept out for the trip through customs, closed the case, and climbed from the Mini.
Wisdom was standing at the back bumper, waiting on her while sucking on what had to have been his third cigarette since he'd picked her up. When she nodded that she was ready, he pivoted on his heel and started for a pair of steel doors set in the wall across the parking garage. She fell into step behind him and concentrated solely on putting one foot in front of the other. Not even the coffee was helping keep her eyes open at the moment.
Upon arriving at the elevator, Wisdom stubbed out his cigarette against the concrete flooring. One thumb jabbed at the call button. They waited for the car to arrive. He turned to look at her. "First trip to London?"
"I've been many places. My knowledge of HYDRA has earned me a few trips." It was a reply that didn't really answer his question and, judging by the look he gave her, he knew it. But he said nothing about it. The elevator dinged, announcing the car's arrival, and the doors opened. He allowed her to step in first, then followed her and hit a button on the panel. The lift lurched into motion and began to drop slowly down.
The doors opened on an underground walkway. Wisdom stepped out and turned left, leaving Miri to follow him. They made their way along the corridor until they came to a pair of glass doors. He opened one and allowed her through before stepping in after her. Together, the two of them approached a desk that seemingly guarded nothing. A smiling young woman was manning the desk, a computer just off to one side and a mutli-line phone off to the other. "Morning, Pete. Who's this, then?" the woman asked, her hands moving to rest on the keyboard of her computer.
"This is the agent from America. Miriam Grant," he introduced her to the woman, who was already clacking away at her keyboard. Miri produced her S.H.I.E.L.D. ID and handed it over to the woman. She watched as the receptionist studied the ID, scanned it, put it through some other machine, then studied it again. She handed it back, then handed over a clip on badge. 'Visitor' was written across the top in big, bold letters. But unlike normal visitor badges, this one had Miri's image on it. There was also her name and a few other lines that she suspected were related to her clearance level. She clipped the badge to the lapel of her suit coat.
"Welcome to MI6, Agent Grant," the woman said, then lifted the phone and dialed a code in. A panel to their right swung open to reveal yet another hallway. "Enjoy your stay in London."
Miri smiled at her. "Thank you."
"This way," Pete motioned toward the opening. Miri followed him through the door and into the hall. The door swung closed with a soft shushing noise. It was a short corridor, only a few feet long. And there were no doors in this hall except for the one at the end. It opened for them before they reached it.
It took one more elevator ride and a walk down another hallway before she was finally face to face with the director of MI6. Pete had led her into a conference room with a large display screen on one side of it. Director Williams and three other men were already seated around the conference table. All four of them rose when she entered the room.
"Agent Grant. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Director Fury has assured me that you are the very best source of knowledge on HYDRA that he possesses. It is our fervent hope that you can make sense of the files we found at the base," the man said as he shook her hand. Miri took a moment to look him over.
He was middle aged and still lean, as if he liked to work in the field. Hair that had originally been brilliant red was now softened with grey and there were lines around kindly blue eyes that looked to be more from laughing than loss. His handshake was firm without being threatening and he was dressed in a very nice, yet not terribly expensive, suit. One hand motioned toward the chairs and Miri took a seat. Director Williams reclaimed his seat. "I trust you had a pleasant flight?" he inquired.
"It was long. As interested as I am in this base, I'll be glad to see my hotel."
"Of course. I expect you're quite tired. Let's get on with this, shall we?" A nod of his head saw the screen come flickering to life. Even as Miri stared at an arial shot of the base that was creating the buzz, Director Williams was handing her the names of the other three men. Agent Frank Carter, the MI6 expert on HYDRA. Agent Nigel Harkness, the man who had actually found the base. And Agent Derek Langdon, who was actually more a scientist and who was interested in some of the files that appeared to contain information on experiments that HYDRA had been running.
It was Langdon that handed her a small stack of files to go over, which Miri did as the director explained how it was they'd found the base and that it looked to have been in use not that long ago. She poured over the files as the men talked, using a legal pad and pencil she'd pulled from her brief case to jot down notes and ideas as they occurred to her.
There was much more information than she'd expected and, by the time the debriefing was done, she had at least six pages of notes. Names, places, events, things that wouldn't have been seen as important to anyone who didn't know HYDRA the way she did. "You and Agent Wisdom will be going to Scotland tomorrow to have a good look at this base," Williams told her. She glanced up at him and nodded. "We need to know how long they've been using this location. What they might have planned. Anything and everything you can tell us about it."
"Of course, sir," Miri nodded and began tucking her files into her briefcase. She was sure she was missing something important based solely on what she'd been told so far. But there was no telling what it was and she likely wouldn't know until she got a good look at the base. A surreptitious glance at her watch told her it was well past midday. As if suddenly realizing that she'd been hours without food, her stomach rumbled at her in protest. "If there's nothing else?"
"No. Nothing else. I'll have Wisdom take you to your hotel. Plans have already been made so there's no reason to worry about that. We'll have a car round first thing in the morning to fetch you. Is that acceptable?"
"Very acceptable, sir," Miri replied. She rose from her seat and picked up her briefcase. The other men rose with her and each of them offered her a hand. She shook them all. "I'll study these files more in depth tonight."
"Very good, Grant." Williams nodded at that, then escorted her to the door. Wisdom followed her out into the hallway where he took the lead and began tracing their steps back the way they'd come. Now that it was all over, Miri was looking forward to checking into her hotel. She wanted to eat something, then tumble into bed and sleep for the rest of the day. And possibly shower. She was pretty sure she really needed a shower.
"You want to pick something up on the way to the hotel or do you want to order room service?" Wisdom asked once they'd hit the elevator. She gave him a chagrinned look.
"Did everyone hear it?"
He flashed her a smile that seemed to be all teeth and shook his head. "Common sense, luv. You've been on a plane for nearly a day. You're bound to be tired and hungry. So take out or room service?"
"Take out. I don't know if I've got the patience to wait for room service."
"Right, then," he nodded.
The ride to her hotel was made in near silence. Wisdom smoked like a chimney and asked her questions about her life in the States. Nothing probative, mostly small talk. She answered him, if only to keep herself from falling asleep in the car. They found a place to get some take out, a fast food burger joint she was familiar with. When the food was passed over to her, the smell of it assaulted her nose and brought another rumble from her stomach. She flushed with embarrassment when Wisdom laughed at that. But he nodded his head and gave her permission to eat in the car. By the time he'd pulled up in a car park next to her hotel, the food and drink had been devoured.
Pete helped carry her luggage in and waited at the front desk while she checked herself in. The man who did so summoned a bell boy to help her with her bags, freeing Wisdom up. "I'll be round in the morning to fetch you. I'll call from the lobby to let you know I'm here. That arrangement okay with you?"
"That's perfect. Thank you for hauling me around town. I appreciate it."
Her words earned her a smile that seemed a touch too warm and friendly. "Not a problem, luv. Enjoy your sleep. See you tomorrow." He disappeared without another word. Miri shook off the feelings she got from him and allowed the bell boy to escort her up to her room. She offered him a large tip for his service, then closed the door in his face and headed for the shower.
After nearly falling asleep in the shower, Miri stumbled from the cubicle and hastily dried herself off. She slid into a fresh pair of panties and a long, plain white shirt she'd stolen from Phil. It still smelled of him. His scent surrounded her and she could almost feel his arms wrapped around her. She dragged her cell phone from her bag and took it with her to the bed.
She wanted to call him. He'd be at work, all neat and tidy in his suit and tie. She wanted to call him and say all kinds of dirty things to him. Wanted to hear his breath quicken and those little sounds he made when he was in the throes of passion. She even made to dial his number, intent on calling him and coaxing phone sex out of him.
But her head touched the pillow and exhaustion took her. She was lost in sleep before she could even finish her thoughts.
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(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-26 12:02 am (UTC)*two thumbs waaay up*
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-26 12:25 am (UTC)it is going somewhere, so never fear. just... have to get there.
glad you enjoyed.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-26 01:05 am (UTC)Mr. and Mrs. Miller...LOL...gads, they're awesome! The tension is just...well, let's just say I can't wait to see it explode! ;D)
And awww...Coulson waiting for Miri's call. He misses her. Awwwwww. *giggles* I love those two too!!
Lovely character development chappie babe! Kudos!!!!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-26 01:25 am (UTC)i love Miri and Coulson together, too. they make the most perfect couple. seriously.
glad you enjoyed, sweetie. we'll see if we can't keep the train rolling.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-26 01:15 am (UTC)... aw. They're so awkward and NOT SAYING IT and.... ah! Can we just lock Miri and Phil in a room until they'll admit they're in love? PLEASE? *flail* Also... LOL Wisdom, keep your hands to yourself!
Great work, hun. Can't wait to see what happens next!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-26 01:29 am (UTC)yes. they're awkward and cute and perfect together. completely perfect. do you think they'd actually admit they were in love with one another if we locked them in a room? cos i think they'd just be all over one another and... yeah. it wouldn't happen.
i'm sure Miri can more than handle Pete. he came out okay, didn't he? part of the reason he didn't have many speaking lines is because i wasn't sure. and he's letting her get settled, you know...
glad you liked it, honey. i can't wait to see what happens next, either!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-26 01:41 am (UTC)I'm also enjoying the Miri-Coulson relationship. So cute in their own way. I love the little bit with Miri going to sleep in a shirt that still smells of him. And nice hints of plot to come.
Good work!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-26 01:50 am (UTC)i kind of like working with an already established relationship. those two are just all shades of perfect with one another and i really love their dynamic. i see Miri being all business when she's doing business. which means she wouldn't let a word of her off hours escapades leak out. but when she's not working... yeah. she's softer and less rigid. so i like the idea of her shedding one persona and taking up another.
i don't know how much plot there was that was hinted at, but i've actually got a clue here. so, hey. maybe something good will happen soon. we'll see.
glad you enjoyed.