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marysuevirusTitle: The Mary Sue Virus: Lights, Camera, Avengers!
Chapter Fourteen: Disturbances
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
The chair beneath her was soft and cushiony, something that did and didn't surprise her. Something about her captor made her think that he was used to finery and the most luxurious things money could buy. It seemed slightly incongruous that he would offer such a fabulous chair to a prisoner. She watched the man warily, her eyes locked on him as he sat in what could only be described as a throne. His hands were steepled before him, his posture slouched against the tall, straight back. He was watching her, as if waiting for her to do something interesting. So far, neither one of them had said or done anything. She didn't think that such a thing would last much longer. He'd obviously brought her here, where ever here was, for a reason.
There was nothing else in the room beyond her chair, his chair, and what looked like an over sized basin off to one side. No windows lined the walls, allowing her to see where she was. A single runner of red carpeting made its way up the middle of the room, which was long and narrow like some great hall of by gone days. Perhaps if large runners of silk or hand woven tapestries hung on the walls between the iron torches, it might appear more like a medieval era great hall.
Silence stretched taut between them as she did her best to avoid staring at her captor. She could feel his eyes on her, staring at her as if he was trying to figure out what she was. She knew what he was. Well, she knew who he was. She wasn't all that sure about what, yet. She knew his name was Loki and he was supposed to be Thor's brother. She also knew, based on what she'd found in her books, that he was as dangerous as they came. And apparently, if she took in her present location, the old legends were right. Loki was a master of magic.
Astrid snuck a look at him out of the corner of her eye. He was the polar opposite of his brother. Where Thor was blonde and bulky and tan, Loki was dark and thin and pale. Thor smiled easily and the truth was always there in his eyes. Loki had done nothing but frown and all she'd seen in his eyes so far was coldness. Cunning. Calculation. Traits she didn't think his brother possessed. Or, if he did, not in such abundance. How could two brothers be so different from one another? How could they even be brothers?
Not for the first time, she wished that she'd told Thor exactly what he'd wanted to hear. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn't be in this mess now. Fingers of regret and sorrow and pain tangled around her heart. She missed him. She missed his easy smile and his gentle nature. She missed the way he always treated her with such tenderness and respect. As if he treasured her the most above anything else.
As if just thinking about Thor was enough to spur her captor into action, Loki rose from his seat and stalked toward her. She did her best to avoid looking right at him, but he drew close enough that he blocked her line view of the rest of the room. She found herself staring at his chest, eyes tracing the lines of his clothing instead of his face. He allowed it for all of ten seconds. Then his fingers curled around her chin and tipped her head back until she was looking him right in the eye. The only way to avoid his stare would be to close her eyes. "What is it about you mortals that draws my brother? Why does he spend so much time with you instead of his own people?"
She didn't answer him because she thought it was a rhetorical question. Apparently it wasn't. His fingers tightened on her chin until they ground against the bones of her jaw. Pain flared along her chin and pulled a cry from her throat. "Tell me why!" he ordered.
"I don't know," she whispered. "I didn't know who he was until today. I swear."
He snorted in disgust and shoved her back against the back of the seat. "Mortals. You're all weak and fragile. You live short lives. You have none of the power we Asgardians have. And yet, my brother prefers to keep company with the likes of mortals. Why is that? What makes you so special?"
"I swear I don't know." The rant made her think he was unhinged. She figured the more she humored him, the better it would go for her.
He gave her a look that said he didn't believe her. Then a slow smile began to creep its way across his face. He turned slightly, one hand motioning toward the large basin. "Would you like to see what my brother is doing at this very minute?" he questioned.
"You know where Thor is?" she asked in reply.
"I can show you," he promised. She gave him a wary look before stepping past him toward the basin. She felt her behind him, even though he left room between the two of them so that she didn't feel crowded. Their steps echoed loudly in the near empty hall, even when they crossed the runner. When she neared the basin, she could see that it was larger than standard bathtub but smaller than a fountain. And it was filled with some liquid that had a consistency like water but the appearance of mercury. It moved, rippling and shifting within the basin, the way a river with a current moved. There was no apparent source of the movement.
"What is this?" she asked, glancing at Loki over her shoulder. He said nothing, simply stepped up beside her and waved his hand over the silvery pool. The liquid shimmered briefly, then ripples began rolling out to the edges from the center. As each ring made its way to the exterior of the basin, a picture began to form.
"A way to see what your friends and loved ones are doing." Even as he said it, the picture resolved itself into clarity. A familiar blonde head was easily recognizable amid several others. Mr. Stark was there, along with half a dozen others. They were all crowded around a table. She'd seen them all at the fundraiser and she struggled to find names. The redhead was Natasha, intent and focused. Beside her was Clint Barton, looking vaguely as if he didn't want to be anywhere except a bar. Steve Rogers, both terribly assured of himself and utterly lost. And the fifth man, a quiet individual with a mop of dark hair. She struggled for a moment, then finally put a name with the face. Bruce Banner.
The last person at the table was a bald black man. He said something that the others obviously found humorous because they all laughed. The man started passing files around the table and business seemingly took precedence. "Look at my brother. He doesn't seem to care that you're gone, does he?"
"He doesn't know," Astrid insisted, watching Thor's eyes scan the paper before him. "We haven't spoken in a while. He would be looking for me if he knew."
"You sound so sure," Loki replied. There was just enough hint of doubt in his voice to make her wonder if she was wrong. "How old do you think Thor is? How many lifetimes has he seen? Do you think, in all his long years, that he's not had his fair share of mortal women who worship him as a god?"
She didn't dare look at Loki. She suspected he'd see in her eyes exactly what he wanted to see there. Uncertainty and doubt. Seeds he'd planted so easily, with just a few well chosen words. So she kept staring at the image in the liquid, showing Thor as he read the papers in the file he'd been given, as he spoke with the others and shared in their laughter and companionship. She felt very much like the outsider staring in through the window that she was. Why hadn't she told him when she'd had the chance?
"But my brother isn't the only one who is unaware of your absence," Loki whispered in her ear. "There are others who should be looking for you and aren't. Let us see what they're occupying themselves with."
His hand waved over the pool, bringing a fresh round of ripples to life. The image of Thor and his companions was washed away like a sand castle on the beach when the tide came in. It shifted back to silver for a moment or two, then a second image began to form. Astrid recognized Elsa by her stiff hair style and the scientific implements scattered around her. The woman wore a white coat and was bent over a microscope, staring down at whatever was on her slide. There were other people in the room, all of them wearing white coats, as well. Each of them was at some specific task.
Astrid watched as Elsa's head came up and turned to look at one of the people working with her. Her lips moved, but there was no sound. Astrid could guess that someone had called Elsa's name to attract her attention. There was an exchange of words, the pool keeping Elsa and the other speaker in view, that seemed to go on for ages. Eventually, Elsa's cheeks went pink even as she laughed. Then the rest of the room seemingly joined in. Someone had obviously made some kind of joke at the scientist's expense. She made some kind of come back that elicited more laughter, then the group went back to work.
Loki's voice was soft and sure in her ear. "Your scientist friend doesn't seem to care that you're missing. She's going on with her life as if she hasn't a care in the world. Look at her." He motioned toward the pool with one hand. The image focused more closely on Elsa. Even as she peered into her microscope, she was laughing and smiling. "Is that the face of a woman who knows a friend is missing?"
"Elsa and I only really met a month ago. We aren't good friends," Astrid dismissed, even though the part of her that remembered being Gin said that she needed to ignore everything Loki said to her. Liar. Trickster. Manipulator. "I don't that she'd notice I was gone. I don't even have her number."
"Still. Friends don't desert one another, do they? Doesn't it seem strange to you that she would call herself friend, then not bother with you beyond a few passing meetings?" he asked quietly. One hand motioned to the way she kept talking with her helpers. "She spends more time with these people than she has with you. Does she really like you or does she simply pretend for the sake of the other women you surround yourself with?"
"Elsa wouldn't do that," Astrid insisted, though she really didn't know Elsa well enough to say such things. It was a gut feeling. And she was simply trying to keep him from finding a way into her head. "She's a genuine person and she wouldn't do anything like that."
Loki waved his hand over the basin. The image of Elsa faded and more ripples spread out along the pool. "How genuine are the rest of your friends, little mortal?" The surface calmed, once again giving the appearance of mercury. The calm lasted for all of ten seconds before the ripples started again.
The image she was presented with this time was Miri. The woman was tucked away in her office, sitting behind her desk. There was a stack of papers before her while a computer to her left was lit and showed some kind of images on it. There was a desk phone resting on the opposite side of her desk, as well as a couple of pictures. One showed Miriam receiving some kind of award. She was dressed in a smart looking dark suit and heels. The other picture was of her and Alex, their arms slung around each other's shoulders while a group of men stood behind them. It looked like it had been taken at someone's house, so she wondered whose family members those men were.
Next to Miri's hand lay her cell phone. It was slim and sleek, some dark color making up the case, and brand new. It looked like an iPhone, but Astrid couldn't be sure. She watched as the redhead wrote on a notepad beside her while her eyes skimmed over the piece of paper on the top of the stack. Over the course of about three minutes, she saw Miri's eyes constantly lift to look at the phone. Once she even picked it up. As if she was waiting for a call that seemed reluctant to come. When the phone failed to ring and light up, she set it back down with a heavy sigh and went back to her task.
"This one looks more concerned with her gadget than with her missing friend. Could that be perhaps because she doesn't know you're gone?" There was a sibilant quality to Loki's voice, reminding her very much of the snake that had supposedly tempted Eve in Eden. It was very persuasive. She kept trying to shut out the persuasiveness and recall who was talking to her. But his words made some kind of sense and she was afraid she was starting to believe that no one really knew or cared she was gone.
No. That wasn't right. Someone would notice and they'd go looking for her. When they told Thor that she was missing, he'd look for her. After all, he'd told her he carried feelings for her. Surely that hadn't been a line. There'd been no need because she'd already welcomed him into her bed.
"They'll notice I'm missing. And they'll come find me." She put a note of defiance in her voice. She had to believe that what she was telling him was the truth. To think anything else would be disastrous. He'd win and he'd get what he wanted. "When they find you, you'll be in trouble."
Her words saw him throwing back his head and laughing. It was a rich, boisterous sound filled with loathing and hate. "Do you really believe so? Mortals know no concept of loyalty."
"My friends do. They'll come for me," she said firmly.
"I hope you're right. I look forward to crushing the puny mortals you call friends," he snarled before passing his hand over the basin once again. The image faded in a wash of ripples. The pool went still for a few seconds. Rippled again. Formed a new image.
This time, it was Alex. Her black hair was pulled up in a high pony tail at the back of her head. She was wearing a plain grey t-shirt and a pair of black sweats. There were gloves on her hands, fingers curled into loose fists. She was obviously in a gym, beads of sweat dripping down her face and darkening the color of her tee. There was grim look on her face that suggested she was displeased with something. Or someone. And she was jabbing hard at a large bag.
Astrid watched as she punched with force, her gloved fists connecting with the bag time and again so that it swung crazily on its hook. She wasn't using any kind of pattern, her punches hitting high and low, high and middle, middle and low. Astrid could see the strain of muscle under her damp shirt, as if she was looking for someone to really unleash her temper on.
Someone made the mistake of coming up behind her and tapping her on her shoulder. Alex turned with a swing, catching some strange man on the chin with her fist. He staggered back, staring at her with wide eyes. She said something, her lips moving too fast to really read them. But whatever she said must have scared the man because he turned and practically ran the other direction.
"She seems preoccupied with something. Would she be this upset over your abduction?" Loki asked, one hand pointing toward Alex when she started going at the bag with her legs. She kicked so hard that the bag nearly went horizontal. "Or is she so wrapped up in her own problems that she hasn't even noticed your absence? Is this who you expect to come rescue you from me? Do you think she could withstand my magic?"
Laughter echoed around her, bringing Astrid's head up. The room was filled with duplicate versions of Loki. Each of them had eyes that burned with hatred and vengeance. Each of them was an exact replica of the original. Astrid only stared at him before turning back to the pool.
"She's mortal. Just like you. Just like the rest of your friends. She wouldn't survive in a battle against me. Face it, little captive, you're stuck here until someone notices you're missing." Loki told her, laughing to punctuate the situation.
"Someone will notice I'm gone. I have to go to work. My boss will notice that I'm not there. He'll tell someone else. It'll get around. People will come looking for me," Astrid insisted calmly.
"Ah, yes. Tony Stark." Another hand wave saw Alex's image disappearing. The ripples didn't even get a chance to return to silver. They erupted in another image. This one showed her Tony Stark sitting with Phoebe Sinclair. "You think he'll notice you're missing? It seems to me that he's otherwise engaged and terribly preoccupied."
The two of them were sitting in front of a large wall of computer monitors. Both were tapping away and their own keyboards, Phoebe's hands moving almost effortlessly as she typed in line after line. Tony's hand moved with the same sense of purpose, though he wasn't looking at his screen. He was staring at Phoebe. Astrid could see his mouth moving. And Phoebe was smiling. That secretive kind of smile that came from a woman who was with someone she cared about deeply.
One of Stark's hands left his keyboard in order to type at Phoebe's keys. The move brought a laugh from her as she pushed his hand away. During the whole exchange, he didn't bother to look away from her. A faint blush stained her cheeks a soft pink, something that Astrid suspected didn't happen often. She wondered briefly what he'd said to evoke such a reaction in her. It was obvious that, whatever it was, they were very close to one another. It left her feeling a little lost. "I see he looks very concerned by your disappearance. He's practically beside himself with fear."
Astrid didn't answer him, too wrapped up in watching Tony and Phoebe engage in little acts that said they held deeper emotions for one another than they were willing to let on. Loki inched closer to her. "I imagine he's ready to launch the search and rescue any moment now. Assuming he can drag his attention away from your friend. They seem quite comfortable with one another."
"Why are you doing this?" she asked him. He made a sound of mirth, just a single note of laughter in the back of his throat. The image of Tony and Phoebe slid away into a few faint ripples that smoothed out into a sea of silver.
"Because I want you to understand that mortals are fickle and pathetic," Loki told her. Another wave of his hand showed her all four of her friends again. Small snapshots to create one whole picture. Elsa working. Miri fingering her phone. Alex assaulting some faceless agent. Tony and Phoebe playing cute games with one another. "You call them your friends. But they care nothing for you. They've put themselves before anyone else. Your friends care only about themselves."
"You're wrong. They don't know I'm here. If they knew..." she whispered.
"But they don't know you're here. They don't care. And neither does my brother," Loki told her. He waved his hands over the pool one last time. The image changed immediately to show her Thor once again. He was standing in a large room that was filled with all kinds of instruments and displays. Astrid had no idea what it was for or what it meant. And she didn't care. All she could see was the smile on Thor's face and the woman he was talking to.
She was petite next to him, with dark hair and a kind of girl next door demeanor that she could see even through the odd pool. There was something familiar to her, though Astrid couldn't place her. She reached out and touched him, her hand lingering on his arm. Something she said made him laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling up with his mirth. It was an innocent touch. But it wasn't. Because it was a knowing touch. Because it was a familiar touch. An intimate touch.
"You see? He's already forgotten about you. He's moved on to someone else. You mean nothing to him. Mortal women come and go. In a life so long lived as his, how many women do you think he's had? How many mortal women do you think he's seduced and thrown aside?" Loki's words were insidious as they wormed their way into her brain. She wanted to deny it, but it was hard to do so when he kept offering her proof.
"How can you think that you mean anything to any of them?"
~*~*~*~*~
"I'm sorry, Dr. Jones," the voice on the other end of the phone said, voice barely holding onto the thin thread of patience that was left in it. Elsa sighed. It was going to be another one of those calls. "But I've got paperwork from the technician who serviced your equipment just before you were brought on board. His notes state that everything was in working order."
"That may well be, but I've got several very expensive pieces of equipment here that are. Not. Working!" she retorted, just barely able to hold on to the urge to yell at the twit.
"Are you sure they aren't working?" the woman asked. Elsa was ready to snap out a reply when the woman went on. "Have you checked to be sure they're plugged in? Are they turned on? Maybe someone shut them off and unplugged them after you last used them."
"Oh my... You can't be serious. Tell me you're not serious."
"I'm perfectly serious, Dr. Jones. These things do happen."
Elsa was so taken back by the woman's words that she drew the phone away from her ear so that she could stare at it. She was honestly surprised that she didn't start a typhoon or anything, she was blinking that much. "I don't know what third rate community college you got your degree from, but I happen to be one of the top scientific minds in the country. I also happen to know exactly how my equipment is supposed to work. They have not been unplugged. They have not been shut off. I was using them just before lunch!"
"There's no need to shout at me, Dr. Jones. I'm simply trying--" the woman began. Elsa did cut her off this time.
"To give me a coronary!" she finished. "Stop talking right now and listen to me. In the past half hour, I've had five pieces of equipment simply break down. No reason. They weren't even in use at the time. Five pieces of highly scientific and expensive equipment that you couldn't hope to pay for in five lifetimes. Do not sit there and tell me that I am not allowed to call for a technician to look at them. Just call up whoever the hell you need to call and get them here. Now! In case you haven't heard, I'm doing some very important work for Director Fury. You know who Director Fury is, don't you?"
"Yes, but--"
"Good. This means you are well aware of Director Fury's temper, are you not?"
"Yes, but--"
"Excellent. Since you're aware of his temper and you're unwilling to believe that I have the authority to put in a repair call, I'm going to give your name to Directory Fury and you can explain to him why I can't do my god damned job!" she spat.
There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line. It gave Elsa a moment to get herself back under control. "I'm sorry, Dr. Jones. I'll have a maintenance team up to your lab within the half hour. Is that acceptable?"
"Yes. Thank you." Elsa didn't say anything else. She simply put the receiver down in the cradle, perhaps letting it drop a little harder than necessary. Ugh. She hated dealing with people who though they knew better than she did. When she looked up, she found every member of her team gaping at her as if they'd never seen her before. She gave them all a chagrinned look. "I'm so sorry about that."
No one said anything, but she could see that her outburst was startling to them all. Elsa didn't normally treat other people that way, but she and her team had gotten so close to discovering the exact components of Dr. Erskine's serum. It wouldn't take much to finish her task, but she couldn't do that without her equipment. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she'd ever sworn at someone. Had she ever sworn at someone? Maybe she'd spent too much time with the others. They seemed to be rubbing off on her.
Sighing, she tugged her lab coat off. "I'm going to take a walk and relax. We can't do anything until our equipment is fixed. So you all can do the same. All I ask is someone wait here for the technician's arrival."
"Of course, Dr. Jones," Sheila replied faintly. Elsa nodded and threw them a smile, then turned for the door.
And stopped dead in her tracks.
Steve was standing in the doorway, staring at her. Based on the look he was wearing, he'd overheard her exchange with the moron on the other end of the phone. Her cheeks heated up as embarrassment swept through her. "You heard all of that, didn't you?" she asked him.
He only nodded at her in reply.
"I am so sorry. I'm not usually like that, but... " she trailed off, unable to properly vocalize what she'd been thinking.
Steve lifted a hand and waved off anything she was trying to say. "Don't be sorry. That was great," he told her. His praise sent warmth flooding along her nerve endings, bringing a new flush to her cheeks. "You were wonderful, Elsa."
"Thank you." She tried to quell the sudden fluttering of butterflies in her stomach. His praise made her feel practically giddy. "Did you want something? I was going to take a walk so I can calm down a little bit."
"I'll come with you," he told her. She nodded and made for the door. He stepped aside and, gentleman that he was, allowed her to exit the lab before him. She stopped and waited while he nodded to everyone in the room before pulling the door shut behind him. When they were walking up the hall, his hand settled on the small of her back. It was a gentle pressure that brought tingles to life under her skin.
She kept quiet as they walked and found that their feet were leading them toward the indoor forest room. It had become a favored place for them to spend time when she wasn't working. And when he wasn't doing... whatever it was he did here on the helicarrier. In fact, she didn't say anything until long after they'd passed through the door into the lush green of the forest room.
The room was like magic. Almost as soon as she entered, she could feel the tension sliding off of her like dirt under a shower's spray. They walked deeper, following that same path they'd followed the first time they'd come here until they were hidden amidst the trees. "You're having troubles?"
She sighed and shook her head. "My equipment is breaking down. Things that were working just fine not more than an hour ago are suddenly large, expensive pieces of crap that won't do anything. And then this... woman tries to tell me to check whether or not a quarter million dollar piece of scientific machinery is plugged in and turned on. I... might have gotten a little upset with her."
"Maybe a little," he smiled at her. She felt the flush creep up her cheeks again. "But I liked it. I liked seeing you like that. It was kind of... sexy." She noted through the rush of pleasure that he'd stopped to search for the right word. She'd almost been able to see him sifting through his vocabulary in an effort to find just the perfect one.
"I'm not normally like that," she told him. "I can only explain my behavior by saying that I've been hanging out with a few people too much lately. They have to be rubbing off on me."
"Elsa, it really is okay. It was kind of amazing to see that side of you. I think I might have a thing for forceful women." The admission came with his own faint blush. He motioned toward the path, indicating that they should head further into the trees. She started forward again. When his hand landed on the small of her back, she had to stifle a shiver. Just being around him was enough to see her hormones running haywire.
As they went deeper into the forest, the trickling sound of running water reached her ears. They were nearing the stream. It had unofficially become their spot, a place where they liked to go to be alone. More often than not, there was always a basket of food and a blanket spread on the ground near the babbling brook. This time, there was nothing but grass. That was okay, because just being here in Steve's company had her feeling less tense. More rational. As long as she didn't think about the things they liked to do here beside the stream.
The minute she thought about his tender kisses and his strong hands... Well, rational thinking went right out the window.
They stopped at the edge of the stream and, for several long moments, simply watched the water tumble and race over the rocks. Standing beside him, Elsa could feel a hint of tension running through him. A look from the corner of her eye showed tight shoulders and a pensive set to his face. He was thinking hard about something and it appeared that, whatever he was thinking about, was weighing heavily on his mind. Perhaps he needed a shoulder? "What's the matter, Steve?"
He blinked and looked up at her. There was confusion in his eyes for a second, then it was gone and he offered her a faint smile and shrugged. "I'm sorry, Elsa. I didn't mean to bring my problems into our walk."
She gave him a look and shook her head. "You aren't. I asked. So tell me what's bothering you. Its plain to see that there's something there. Maybe talking about it will help?"
"I don't know," he said, then fell silent. She waited for him to decide if he wanted to talk or not. The minutes ticked by, a faintly uneasy silence stretching between them. She wondered what bothered him so much that he was left this uncertain about discussing it. Was it something about... them? That thought saw a tiny sliver of fear lodging in her heart. She wanted to ask him if that was the case, but something kept the words locked behind her lips.
He'd talk if he wanted to. Nothing she could say or do would convince him otherwise. She knew him well enough by now to understand that. Finally, he heaved a sigh and looked her way. "There's something really strange happening on the helicarrier. I know of at least a dozen pieces of equipment breaking down. And those don't include anything in your lab. And most of these things had just been inspected. Its... not natural."
"What kinds of things?" Elsa asked, curious despite herself. She shouldn't really be concerned about anything beyond her lab and her equipment, but it was obvious that Steve thought something strange was going on.
"Things that make the helicarrier work, but don't immediately effect its mobility or anything like that. It feels like small pieces of a larger whole," he explained, then gave her a sheepish look. "Does any of that make sense?"
"Actually, it makes perfect sense. Like someone is trying to sabotage the helicarrier, but not outright do it. Is that even possible?" she wondered aloud.
Steve cast his glance around him, as if expecting someone to just pop out of the trees unannounced. When he seemed sure that they were alone, he turned back to her. "I think Fury's worried that HYDRA is up to something. You know that they got a mole into S.H.I.E.L.D. and that mole tried to kill Phoebe. But there are other things that I don't think you know about that add up to some pretty unpleasant ideas when added to the attack on Phoebe. I'm not at liberty to discuss them with you, but trust me. What I know doesn't sound good."
"I believe you. But... if Fury's worried about HYDRA, why isn't he doing anything?" Elsa asked softly. It was hard to believe that the director would let anything go unchallenged.
"He doesn't have any proof. He isn't going to move without it. He's walking a delicate balance right now. The Avenger Initiative is still new enough that people are willing to see how it goes. But one wrong move will have it canceled in a heartbeat."
She nodded, unsure what to say to that. "So you don't think that my equipment breaking down is any kind of coincidence, do you?"
"No. I don't. In fact, I'm willing to bet that everything going wrong is related somehow. I just don't know how or why its happening." He stopped talking and slipped into thought. Elsa watched him, trying hard to push away the unsettling feeling that had suddenly wrapped itself around her.
"What do we do, Steve?" she asked quietly.
He looked at her, eyes honest and sincere. Worried. "I think it might be a good idea to contact Director Fury and let him know about your equipment. I'm pretty sure someone has been keeping him up to date on what's been happening here on the helicarrier."
"I can do that once I get back to my lab," she told him softly.
"Good." He fell silent again for a moment or two, then gave her a serious look. "There's one other thing you can do, Elsa."
"What's that?"
"Something bad is going to happen. Its a feeling I've got deep in my gut." He stopped again and she saw one of his hands tighten to a fist at his side. Then he pulled her into his embrace and hugged her close. "Pray, Elsa. When that thing does happen, people are going to get hurt. Badly. So just pray."
~*~*~*~*~
The burning ache in her muscles told her she'd pushed herself well beyond normal levels of training. She'd moved into the punishment phase some time ago. Each jab made her arms and shoulders shake. Each kick and connect saw her legs trembling. Threatening to give out from underneath her. She knew she should stop, but she wouldn't. Because this punishing work out was her punishment. It had been every day since he'd walked out her door. Because she was a fucking idiot and a bloody coward.
If only she'd told him.
Alex told her brain to shut the fuck up and went back to pounding the heavy bag. She didn't want to hear it because she'd been through this time and time again. And she'd decided that no matter how much she wanted him, she just couldn't take the risk. Maybe that made her a coward in the worst way, but after what had happened the last time, she didn't really dare risk it. Still, the need and want were damned vocal and they tried daily to get her to change her mind. So far, she'd managed to hold on to her resolve, but it was a close thing. And the more her desires fought her, the harder it was to ignore them.
She could still recall the look on his face when he'd walked out her door. It made her hate herself. It almost made her wish she'd been stronger. And that made her feel guilty, as if going back on the decisions she'd made for herself long ago were some kind of betrayal. The amount of guilt she felt over the whole thing could only be truly silenced one of two ways. Either she drank herself into a stupor every night or she spent her nights in the gym, training until she was too tired to do anything but fall asleep as soon as she put her head down. Since going down the fast road to alcoholism wasn't an appealing option, the gym and self-abuse it was.
The discordant crash of guitars filtered into her head and reminded her that she had music going. Since it was late, she was the only one here. Some distraction that had proved to be. She took a moment to mentally name the song playing. Bad Religion by Godsmack echoed loudly in the gym. That brought a snort from her throat. How fitting was that? This whole mess was nothing more than some kind of...
The music ticked off and so did her brain. She was no longer alone.
No one ever disturbed her when she trained so late at night. She could only think of one person who would dare shut off her music and interrupt her private training sessions. Sighing, she drummed up a good head of angry steam and made to face him. He was in for a big surprise if he thought she'd be anymore welcoming now than she had been the last time she'd seen him. "What the fuck do you want?" she asked as she turned, ready to put him on the defensive.
Except it wasn't Clint. Instead, Alex found herself staring at Natasha. The redhead was watching her with narrowed eyes, her lips thin. There was nothing on her face to suggest what the woman was feeling. Alex frowned. "Natasha? What are you doing here?"
The shorter woman stepped closer, crossing the mats covering the floor on silent feet. The intensity of the look she gave Alex was unnerving. When Tasha was only a few feet from her, she stopped and let her stare slide up and down Alex's entire frame. There was such an expression of disgust on her face when she finally brought her eyes back to Alex's that it almost made Alex step back. "I came to see if I could figure out what Clint sees in you."
That took Alex by surprise. She did her best not to let it show. Tasha's gaze swept her from head to foot again.This time, it earned her a snort. "Obviously I'm found lacking," Alex said, crossing her arms over her chest. Natasha said nothing. "Just how is this any of your business?"
"Clint is my partner. You hurt him with your callous treatment. His emotions effect his ability to be a good asset in the field. You used him."
"How exactly did I use him? We had sex. That was all," Alex told her calmly. It was a good thing Natasha didn't have super hearing, or she'd know that Alex's heart was pounding in her chest with the mere mention of the archer.
"You must be both blind and stupid, Alex," Natasha said, disgust dripping from every word. Alex felt her back go up at the insult. She did her best to keep the fact hidden. The last thing she wanted to do was give anything away. To anyone. The corner of the redhead's mouth curled up. "No wonder you were a dismal failure during training."
Alex said nothing to that, instead concentrated on keeping her face blank. "Perhaps your memory is failing you, Natasha. We took the same training courses. We were in the same classes together. You and Miri and I."
Natasha shrugged a shoulder negligently. "What does that matter? Grant was needed elsewhere. You..." she paused to let her gaze rake up and down Alex's frame once more. A sneer curled up her lip. "You just weren't as good as I was."
Alex shook her head. "Again, I think you might be having memory troubles. I passed my training, Tasha."
The other woman laughed, a sharp report of sound that echoed loudly in the nearly empty gym. Then she shook her head. "The only reason you were brought into S.H.I.E.L.D. and made an agent is because Fury liked your uncle."
Alex might have chosen not to believe Natasha's words. But there was a knife's edge in them, nothing but truth that cut right to the quick. Fresh pain blossomed from an old wound, the thick scab that had covered it torn carelessly away by a few well placed words. Along with the pain came a surge of anger and hatred that ignited her soul, burned as brightly as a thousand suns. She knew Tasha saw it by the small smile that pulled the corners of her mouth up and then Tasha was in motion before Alex even knew what she was going to do.
Her fist came up out of nowhere, a blow that would have seen its recipient landing hard on their back had it made contact. But this was Natasha. And as good as Alex thought she was, she knew that Tasha was that much better. After all, the woman's call sign was the Black Widow. She did things in the field that not even Miri got to do. Alex was nothing next to her. But that didn't stop her from pushing her assault.
Too much emotion had been boiling away inside of her the past few days. It was almost as if it had been determined to see her give in to it, bow down to it and acknowledge that she was the world's worst liar. Not only to her family and friends, but to herself. Events that had happened long in the past were fresh and painful in her mind. Mixed with the more recent occurrences, it was enough to make her forget that Natasha could wipe the floor with her in one fell swoop. It made her reckless. And blind. And stupid.
She didn't care, either.
Natasha blocked the blow, came in with one of her own that staggered Alex back and away from her. Alex nearly went down, but caught herself. Found her balance and center. Offered Natasha a smile that told her to bring it. The other woman started forward, feet light and sure. That was when Alex noticed that her opponent was wearing one of the agency issued cat suits. She'd come ready for a fight, had used a few well chosen sentences to goad Alex into one. Curious.
There was no time for thought as the two women met and clashed on the mats. For each punch or kick Alex launched, Natasha had an arm or leg there to block. If she was lucky enough to land a blow, it was a glancing one to Tasha's shoulder or hip. Never full contact, never hard enough to do damage. Never hard enough to stop the laughter in her head.
But for as much as she didn't land a blow anywhere on Natasha, she was still a fully trained agent. And she was capable of blocking her opponent's blows. She did so with some measure of success. Not that she expected to stop every punch or kick the other woman threw at her. It was Natasha and... Yeah. There was that whole Black Widow thing to take into account. Still, Alex managed to block a punch here and a kick there. What she couldn't block, she did her best to avoid. Sometimes her plan worked. Sometimes it didn't. Sometimes, Alex ended up on the mat on her back.
Those were the times when Tasha tried to stomp a foot down into her stomach. Those were the times when Alex would roll and the gymnastics she'd taken as a child would come into play. She rolled away and up onto her feet, centered her balance and tried again.
If Alex had been fully rational and in control of her thoughts, she'd have known that the fight was doomed from the very start. But rational thinking had left her somewhere around the time Clint had put a hand on her at her parents' house during that ridiculous dinner. It hadn't come back yet. So while she knew, somewhere deep inside, that engaging Natasha in hand to hand was asking for trouble, she didn't really acknowledge it on every level. There was part of her that wanted so badly, just once, to pound the living crap out of one of her detractors.
All of her life, she'd felt boxed in by someone else's plans for her. As a child, it had been her mother's desire to see her be the perfect girl child. There had been dance lessons, then music. There had been gymnastics and choir. There had been the comments about growing up to get married and have babies. Even to this day, her mother pushed about such things. Alex never felt good enough where her mother was concerned.
Then there were her brothers, who had done their best to make her understand that she was always going to be their little sister. That they would always watch out for her and protect her so that they could torment her themselves. For a long time, they'd succeeded. But they'd made a fatal mistake in introducing her to cars and engines and grease. She'd taken to mechanics like a fish to water. When they'd realized that she was a full on grease monkey, they'd gone back to treating her like their little sister and she'd once again found herself shoved into a hole into which she didn't fit.
Her father had never really wanted anything of her other than to see her happy. He'd told her that more often than not. But she'd always sensed an underlying note of... sorrow where she was concerned. As if he secretly felt she'd dishonored him somehow.
Even the people she worked with tended to pigeon hole her. The men always thought she would be some kind of easy conquest upon first meetings. Always. She didn't know why, but it was as if she didn't deserve the same kind of respect that she knew Miri and Natasha and Maria Hill got. She'd had to kick ass more than once to prove that she had a right to be where she was. Miri had always respected her, though there were times when Alex thought maybe she was disappointed in her friend somehow. It normally didn't bother her because Miri was her friend, no matter what.
The only one in her life who had never seen her as something other than who she was had been her uncle. Uncle Alex had always told her she could be whoever she wanted to be, do whatever she wanted to do. It had been his insistence that had seen her go to college. He'd been the one to push her into becoming something more than just a simple mechanic when that's what she'd have been perfectly content with. He'd been the one who had never once thought her silly or anything like that. He'd been the one she'd always looked up to, always understood. Always known.
Except, if what Natasha had said was true, maybe she hadn't really known him at all. Was it possible that he'd known Director Fury? If so, did that mean he'd been an agent? The questions left her confused and so angry that she couldn't see straight. If Fury had sought her out because of her Uncle Alex, then the man she'd been named after had to have been working for S.H.I.E.L.D. Which meant that Alex had never known him at all. And that pissed her off more than anything.
Alex channeled that anger into a fresh attack on Tasha. She knew it was hopeless deep down, that she was too off balance and enraged to really take on the other woman. But she didn't let that stop her. She launched herself into a series of powerhouse kicks that would have done serious damage to anyone unprepared. But it was Natasha and she simply blocked and kicked and swept Alex off her feet. When she landed on the mat, back flat while her chest heaved and her body screamed that she stop, Natasha stood over her and stared down at her blankly. "Give up before you get hurt, Quinn. You'll never defeat me."
Alex only smiled, rolled onto her side and managed a scissor kick that caught Natasha unaware. The woman stumbled but didn't fall, then did an impressive hand flip backwards that took her out of Alex's range. Alex was on her feet in an instant, balanced on the toes of her feet and ready for the next attack. It was obvious that Natasha wasn't going to stop until Alex was either unable to get up or dead. Alex was stupidly hoping to avoid both.
She tried to turn her mind off when Tasha came in for another round of punches that promised there would be deep black bruises marring Alex's skin come the next day. Tried to focus instead on the Black Widow's next move. But she couldn't. Her brain wouldn't quit going in circles about her family and her friends and the cluster fuck that she'd made of her personal life.
Over the course of the next ten minutes, Alex found herself on her back half a dozen times. She was tossed over Tasha's shoulder. Thrown down. Had her feet kicked out from under her. Got punched in the face. Pretty much got her ass handed to her. She got up close and personal with a few of Natasha's more exotic and very effective signature moves. And in the end, she found herself face first on the mat, gasping for air and bleeding while sweat ran freely and stung her cuts.
Tasha knelt down so that one knee rested in the middle of her back and kept her pinned, even thought Alex was sure the other woman knew she couldn't so much as lift a finger. Tasha tapped a finger to the back of Alex's skull, a silent warning that Alex chose not to examine too closely, then the other woman was gone.
It wasn't until she was alone, until she managed to roll onto her back even though it hurt every last inch of her body to do so, and staring up at the ceiling that she understood what had just happened. Natasha was a woman of few words. She preferred to let actions speak for her. But the whole fight, which couldn't have lasted more than five minutes, was her way of saying that Alex should stay away from Clint. If she didn't...
Fuck. The work outs were supposed to leave her so tired that she couldn't think. All she could do as she laid there was let her mind wander. And she didn't like much of what she came up with.
The first thing was that Natasha would make her life hell if she even so much as looked at Clint Barton again. Which she doubted would be a problem because he hated her guts. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of him since he'd left her apartment. And that made her wonder why Natasha thought that Alex was the source of Barton's problems. Clearly the other woman had to be reading more into what was going on than was actually there. Besides, it wasn't like he was the one who was having problems. If Alex was being honest with herself...
Right. Moving on, there was the matter of her family. More specifically, her uncle. Was what Natasha had said true? Had Uncle Alex known Nick Fury? Had he been a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent? Was that why Fury had recruited her right out of college? Because... She frowned and closed her eyes. She didn't have a because. It hurt too much to think of such things. If all of it was truth, that meant that Uncle Alex had lied to her. Fury had lied to her. And she'd only gotten her chance based on that lie.
That hurt more than she could say. Because if it was true, then she didn't really belong at S.H.I.E.L.D. She'd made it her career. Had made it her entire life. She'd lied to her family about what she did and her personal life because of it. For what?
Slowly, every muscle screaming in pain, Alex peeled herself off the ground and hobbled toward the towel and her portable radio. God, she couldn't deal with any of this tonight. Slowly, with great care, she gathered up her belongings. She needed to get the fuck out of here and go someplace. Make it all stop.
She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. She was too numb to let them fall. Maybe tomorrow, when she wasn't so bone weary, she could bawl until her nose got snotty and red. But not tonight. Not right now. Now was for cleaning up and heading for the nearest bar. Now was for getting so fucking shit faced that she couldn't think about anything or anyone. Now was for pretending that Clint Barton didn't exist and that a woman she'd long considered a friend as well as a colleague hadn't just beaten the shit out of her because she'd hurt a man.
Tonight was for forgetting that she was hopelessly, head over heels in love with Clint Barton and that she'd never have met him if not for her uncle's interference.
Tomorrow was for making decisions. She had a lot to think about. Things to decide. But not tonight. Tonight, she'd drink until she forgot it all and then she'd pass out and sleep it off.
Tomorrow was when she'd let herself think and feel and react.
Tomorrow was when she'd grieve.
Chapter Fourteen: Disturbances
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
The chair beneath her was soft and cushiony, something that did and didn't surprise her. Something about her captor made her think that he was used to finery and the most luxurious things money could buy. It seemed slightly incongruous that he would offer such a fabulous chair to a prisoner. She watched the man warily, her eyes locked on him as he sat in what could only be described as a throne. His hands were steepled before him, his posture slouched against the tall, straight back. He was watching her, as if waiting for her to do something interesting. So far, neither one of them had said or done anything. She didn't think that such a thing would last much longer. He'd obviously brought her here, where ever here was, for a reason.
There was nothing else in the room beyond her chair, his chair, and what looked like an over sized basin off to one side. No windows lined the walls, allowing her to see where she was. A single runner of red carpeting made its way up the middle of the room, which was long and narrow like some great hall of by gone days. Perhaps if large runners of silk or hand woven tapestries hung on the walls between the iron torches, it might appear more like a medieval era great hall.
Silence stretched taut between them as she did her best to avoid staring at her captor. She could feel his eyes on her, staring at her as if he was trying to figure out what she was. She knew what he was. Well, she knew who he was. She wasn't all that sure about what, yet. She knew his name was Loki and he was supposed to be Thor's brother. She also knew, based on what she'd found in her books, that he was as dangerous as they came. And apparently, if she took in her present location, the old legends were right. Loki was a master of magic.
Astrid snuck a look at him out of the corner of her eye. He was the polar opposite of his brother. Where Thor was blonde and bulky and tan, Loki was dark and thin and pale. Thor smiled easily and the truth was always there in his eyes. Loki had done nothing but frown and all she'd seen in his eyes so far was coldness. Cunning. Calculation. Traits she didn't think his brother possessed. Or, if he did, not in such abundance. How could two brothers be so different from one another? How could they even be brothers?
Not for the first time, she wished that she'd told Thor exactly what he'd wanted to hear. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn't be in this mess now. Fingers of regret and sorrow and pain tangled around her heart. She missed him. She missed his easy smile and his gentle nature. She missed the way he always treated her with such tenderness and respect. As if he treasured her the most above anything else.
As if just thinking about Thor was enough to spur her captor into action, Loki rose from his seat and stalked toward her. She did her best to avoid looking right at him, but he drew close enough that he blocked her line view of the rest of the room. She found herself staring at his chest, eyes tracing the lines of his clothing instead of his face. He allowed it for all of ten seconds. Then his fingers curled around her chin and tipped her head back until she was looking him right in the eye. The only way to avoid his stare would be to close her eyes. "What is it about you mortals that draws my brother? Why does he spend so much time with you instead of his own people?"
She didn't answer him because she thought it was a rhetorical question. Apparently it wasn't. His fingers tightened on her chin until they ground against the bones of her jaw. Pain flared along her chin and pulled a cry from her throat. "Tell me why!" he ordered.
"I don't know," she whispered. "I didn't know who he was until today. I swear."
He snorted in disgust and shoved her back against the back of the seat. "Mortals. You're all weak and fragile. You live short lives. You have none of the power we Asgardians have. And yet, my brother prefers to keep company with the likes of mortals. Why is that? What makes you so special?"
"I swear I don't know." The rant made her think he was unhinged. She figured the more she humored him, the better it would go for her.
He gave her a look that said he didn't believe her. Then a slow smile began to creep its way across his face. He turned slightly, one hand motioning toward the large basin. "Would you like to see what my brother is doing at this very minute?" he questioned.
"You know where Thor is?" she asked in reply.
"I can show you," he promised. She gave him a wary look before stepping past him toward the basin. She felt her behind him, even though he left room between the two of them so that she didn't feel crowded. Their steps echoed loudly in the near empty hall, even when they crossed the runner. When she neared the basin, she could see that it was larger than standard bathtub but smaller than a fountain. And it was filled with some liquid that had a consistency like water but the appearance of mercury. It moved, rippling and shifting within the basin, the way a river with a current moved. There was no apparent source of the movement.
"What is this?" she asked, glancing at Loki over her shoulder. He said nothing, simply stepped up beside her and waved his hand over the silvery pool. The liquid shimmered briefly, then ripples began rolling out to the edges from the center. As each ring made its way to the exterior of the basin, a picture began to form.
"A way to see what your friends and loved ones are doing." Even as he said it, the picture resolved itself into clarity. A familiar blonde head was easily recognizable amid several others. Mr. Stark was there, along with half a dozen others. They were all crowded around a table. She'd seen them all at the fundraiser and she struggled to find names. The redhead was Natasha, intent and focused. Beside her was Clint Barton, looking vaguely as if he didn't want to be anywhere except a bar. Steve Rogers, both terribly assured of himself and utterly lost. And the fifth man, a quiet individual with a mop of dark hair. She struggled for a moment, then finally put a name with the face. Bruce Banner.
The last person at the table was a bald black man. He said something that the others obviously found humorous because they all laughed. The man started passing files around the table and business seemingly took precedence. "Look at my brother. He doesn't seem to care that you're gone, does he?"
"He doesn't know," Astrid insisted, watching Thor's eyes scan the paper before him. "We haven't spoken in a while. He would be looking for me if he knew."
"You sound so sure," Loki replied. There was just enough hint of doubt in his voice to make her wonder if she was wrong. "How old do you think Thor is? How many lifetimes has he seen? Do you think, in all his long years, that he's not had his fair share of mortal women who worship him as a god?"
She didn't dare look at Loki. She suspected he'd see in her eyes exactly what he wanted to see there. Uncertainty and doubt. Seeds he'd planted so easily, with just a few well chosen words. So she kept staring at the image in the liquid, showing Thor as he read the papers in the file he'd been given, as he spoke with the others and shared in their laughter and companionship. She felt very much like the outsider staring in through the window that she was. Why hadn't she told him when she'd had the chance?
"But my brother isn't the only one who is unaware of your absence," Loki whispered in her ear. "There are others who should be looking for you and aren't. Let us see what they're occupying themselves with."
His hand waved over the pool, bringing a fresh round of ripples to life. The image of Thor and his companions was washed away like a sand castle on the beach when the tide came in. It shifted back to silver for a moment or two, then a second image began to form. Astrid recognized Elsa by her stiff hair style and the scientific implements scattered around her. The woman wore a white coat and was bent over a microscope, staring down at whatever was on her slide. There were other people in the room, all of them wearing white coats, as well. Each of them was at some specific task.
Astrid watched as Elsa's head came up and turned to look at one of the people working with her. Her lips moved, but there was no sound. Astrid could guess that someone had called Elsa's name to attract her attention. There was an exchange of words, the pool keeping Elsa and the other speaker in view, that seemed to go on for ages. Eventually, Elsa's cheeks went pink even as she laughed. Then the rest of the room seemingly joined in. Someone had obviously made some kind of joke at the scientist's expense. She made some kind of come back that elicited more laughter, then the group went back to work.
Loki's voice was soft and sure in her ear. "Your scientist friend doesn't seem to care that you're missing. She's going on with her life as if she hasn't a care in the world. Look at her." He motioned toward the pool with one hand. The image focused more closely on Elsa. Even as she peered into her microscope, she was laughing and smiling. "Is that the face of a woman who knows a friend is missing?"
"Elsa and I only really met a month ago. We aren't good friends," Astrid dismissed, even though the part of her that remembered being Gin said that she needed to ignore everything Loki said to her. Liar. Trickster. Manipulator. "I don't that she'd notice I was gone. I don't even have her number."
"Still. Friends don't desert one another, do they? Doesn't it seem strange to you that she would call herself friend, then not bother with you beyond a few passing meetings?" he asked quietly. One hand motioned to the way she kept talking with her helpers. "She spends more time with these people than she has with you. Does she really like you or does she simply pretend for the sake of the other women you surround yourself with?"
"Elsa wouldn't do that," Astrid insisted, though she really didn't know Elsa well enough to say such things. It was a gut feeling. And she was simply trying to keep him from finding a way into her head. "She's a genuine person and she wouldn't do anything like that."
Loki waved his hand over the basin. The image of Elsa faded and more ripples spread out along the pool. "How genuine are the rest of your friends, little mortal?" The surface calmed, once again giving the appearance of mercury. The calm lasted for all of ten seconds before the ripples started again.
The image she was presented with this time was Miri. The woman was tucked away in her office, sitting behind her desk. There was a stack of papers before her while a computer to her left was lit and showed some kind of images on it. There was a desk phone resting on the opposite side of her desk, as well as a couple of pictures. One showed Miriam receiving some kind of award. She was dressed in a smart looking dark suit and heels. The other picture was of her and Alex, their arms slung around each other's shoulders while a group of men stood behind them. It looked like it had been taken at someone's house, so she wondered whose family members those men were.
Next to Miri's hand lay her cell phone. It was slim and sleek, some dark color making up the case, and brand new. It looked like an iPhone, but Astrid couldn't be sure. She watched as the redhead wrote on a notepad beside her while her eyes skimmed over the piece of paper on the top of the stack. Over the course of about three minutes, she saw Miri's eyes constantly lift to look at the phone. Once she even picked it up. As if she was waiting for a call that seemed reluctant to come. When the phone failed to ring and light up, she set it back down with a heavy sigh and went back to her task.
"This one looks more concerned with her gadget than with her missing friend. Could that be perhaps because she doesn't know you're gone?" There was a sibilant quality to Loki's voice, reminding her very much of the snake that had supposedly tempted Eve in Eden. It was very persuasive. She kept trying to shut out the persuasiveness and recall who was talking to her. But his words made some kind of sense and she was afraid she was starting to believe that no one really knew or cared she was gone.
No. That wasn't right. Someone would notice and they'd go looking for her. When they told Thor that she was missing, he'd look for her. After all, he'd told her he carried feelings for her. Surely that hadn't been a line. There'd been no need because she'd already welcomed him into her bed.
"They'll notice I'm missing. And they'll come find me." She put a note of defiance in her voice. She had to believe that what she was telling him was the truth. To think anything else would be disastrous. He'd win and he'd get what he wanted. "When they find you, you'll be in trouble."
Her words saw him throwing back his head and laughing. It was a rich, boisterous sound filled with loathing and hate. "Do you really believe so? Mortals know no concept of loyalty."
"My friends do. They'll come for me," she said firmly.
"I hope you're right. I look forward to crushing the puny mortals you call friends," he snarled before passing his hand over the basin once again. The image faded in a wash of ripples. The pool went still for a few seconds. Rippled again. Formed a new image.
This time, it was Alex. Her black hair was pulled up in a high pony tail at the back of her head. She was wearing a plain grey t-shirt and a pair of black sweats. There were gloves on her hands, fingers curled into loose fists. She was obviously in a gym, beads of sweat dripping down her face and darkening the color of her tee. There was grim look on her face that suggested she was displeased with something. Or someone. And she was jabbing hard at a large bag.
Astrid watched as she punched with force, her gloved fists connecting with the bag time and again so that it swung crazily on its hook. She wasn't using any kind of pattern, her punches hitting high and low, high and middle, middle and low. Astrid could see the strain of muscle under her damp shirt, as if she was looking for someone to really unleash her temper on.
Someone made the mistake of coming up behind her and tapping her on her shoulder. Alex turned with a swing, catching some strange man on the chin with her fist. He staggered back, staring at her with wide eyes. She said something, her lips moving too fast to really read them. But whatever she said must have scared the man because he turned and practically ran the other direction.
"She seems preoccupied with something. Would she be this upset over your abduction?" Loki asked, one hand pointing toward Alex when she started going at the bag with her legs. She kicked so hard that the bag nearly went horizontal. "Or is she so wrapped up in her own problems that she hasn't even noticed your absence? Is this who you expect to come rescue you from me? Do you think she could withstand my magic?"
Laughter echoed around her, bringing Astrid's head up. The room was filled with duplicate versions of Loki. Each of them had eyes that burned with hatred and vengeance. Each of them was an exact replica of the original. Astrid only stared at him before turning back to the pool.
"She's mortal. Just like you. Just like the rest of your friends. She wouldn't survive in a battle against me. Face it, little captive, you're stuck here until someone notices you're missing." Loki told her, laughing to punctuate the situation.
"Someone will notice I'm gone. I have to go to work. My boss will notice that I'm not there. He'll tell someone else. It'll get around. People will come looking for me," Astrid insisted calmly.
"Ah, yes. Tony Stark." Another hand wave saw Alex's image disappearing. The ripples didn't even get a chance to return to silver. They erupted in another image. This one showed her Tony Stark sitting with Phoebe Sinclair. "You think he'll notice you're missing? It seems to me that he's otherwise engaged and terribly preoccupied."
The two of them were sitting in front of a large wall of computer monitors. Both were tapping away and their own keyboards, Phoebe's hands moving almost effortlessly as she typed in line after line. Tony's hand moved with the same sense of purpose, though he wasn't looking at his screen. He was staring at Phoebe. Astrid could see his mouth moving. And Phoebe was smiling. That secretive kind of smile that came from a woman who was with someone she cared about deeply.
One of Stark's hands left his keyboard in order to type at Phoebe's keys. The move brought a laugh from her as she pushed his hand away. During the whole exchange, he didn't bother to look away from her. A faint blush stained her cheeks a soft pink, something that Astrid suspected didn't happen often. She wondered briefly what he'd said to evoke such a reaction in her. It was obvious that, whatever it was, they were very close to one another. It left her feeling a little lost. "I see he looks very concerned by your disappearance. He's practically beside himself with fear."
Astrid didn't answer him, too wrapped up in watching Tony and Phoebe engage in little acts that said they held deeper emotions for one another than they were willing to let on. Loki inched closer to her. "I imagine he's ready to launch the search and rescue any moment now. Assuming he can drag his attention away from your friend. They seem quite comfortable with one another."
"Why are you doing this?" she asked him. He made a sound of mirth, just a single note of laughter in the back of his throat. The image of Tony and Phoebe slid away into a few faint ripples that smoothed out into a sea of silver.
"Because I want you to understand that mortals are fickle and pathetic," Loki told her. Another wave of his hand showed her all four of her friends again. Small snapshots to create one whole picture. Elsa working. Miri fingering her phone. Alex assaulting some faceless agent. Tony and Phoebe playing cute games with one another. "You call them your friends. But they care nothing for you. They've put themselves before anyone else. Your friends care only about themselves."
"You're wrong. They don't know I'm here. If they knew..." she whispered.
"But they don't know you're here. They don't care. And neither does my brother," Loki told her. He waved his hands over the pool one last time. The image changed immediately to show her Thor once again. He was standing in a large room that was filled with all kinds of instruments and displays. Astrid had no idea what it was for or what it meant. And she didn't care. All she could see was the smile on Thor's face and the woman he was talking to.
She was petite next to him, with dark hair and a kind of girl next door demeanor that she could see even through the odd pool. There was something familiar to her, though Astrid couldn't place her. She reached out and touched him, her hand lingering on his arm. Something she said made him laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling up with his mirth. It was an innocent touch. But it wasn't. Because it was a knowing touch. Because it was a familiar touch. An intimate touch.
"You see? He's already forgotten about you. He's moved on to someone else. You mean nothing to him. Mortal women come and go. In a life so long lived as his, how many women do you think he's had? How many mortal women do you think he's seduced and thrown aside?" Loki's words were insidious as they wormed their way into her brain. She wanted to deny it, but it was hard to do so when he kept offering her proof.
"How can you think that you mean anything to any of them?"
~*~*~*~*~
"I'm sorry, Dr. Jones," the voice on the other end of the phone said, voice barely holding onto the thin thread of patience that was left in it. Elsa sighed. It was going to be another one of those calls. "But I've got paperwork from the technician who serviced your equipment just before you were brought on board. His notes state that everything was in working order."
"That may well be, but I've got several very expensive pieces of equipment here that are. Not. Working!" she retorted, just barely able to hold on to the urge to yell at the twit.
"Are you sure they aren't working?" the woman asked. Elsa was ready to snap out a reply when the woman went on. "Have you checked to be sure they're plugged in? Are they turned on? Maybe someone shut them off and unplugged them after you last used them."
"Oh my... You can't be serious. Tell me you're not serious."
"I'm perfectly serious, Dr. Jones. These things do happen."
Elsa was so taken back by the woman's words that she drew the phone away from her ear so that she could stare at it. She was honestly surprised that she didn't start a typhoon or anything, she was blinking that much. "I don't know what third rate community college you got your degree from, but I happen to be one of the top scientific minds in the country. I also happen to know exactly how my equipment is supposed to work. They have not been unplugged. They have not been shut off. I was using them just before lunch!"
"There's no need to shout at me, Dr. Jones. I'm simply trying--" the woman began. Elsa did cut her off this time.
"To give me a coronary!" she finished. "Stop talking right now and listen to me. In the past half hour, I've had five pieces of equipment simply break down. No reason. They weren't even in use at the time. Five pieces of highly scientific and expensive equipment that you couldn't hope to pay for in five lifetimes. Do not sit there and tell me that I am not allowed to call for a technician to look at them. Just call up whoever the hell you need to call and get them here. Now! In case you haven't heard, I'm doing some very important work for Director Fury. You know who Director Fury is, don't you?"
"Yes, but--"
"Good. This means you are well aware of Director Fury's temper, are you not?"
"Yes, but--"
"Excellent. Since you're aware of his temper and you're unwilling to believe that I have the authority to put in a repair call, I'm going to give your name to Directory Fury and you can explain to him why I can't do my god damned job!" she spat.
There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line. It gave Elsa a moment to get herself back under control. "I'm sorry, Dr. Jones. I'll have a maintenance team up to your lab within the half hour. Is that acceptable?"
"Yes. Thank you." Elsa didn't say anything else. She simply put the receiver down in the cradle, perhaps letting it drop a little harder than necessary. Ugh. She hated dealing with people who though they knew better than she did. When she looked up, she found every member of her team gaping at her as if they'd never seen her before. She gave them all a chagrinned look. "I'm so sorry about that."
No one said anything, but she could see that her outburst was startling to them all. Elsa didn't normally treat other people that way, but she and her team had gotten so close to discovering the exact components of Dr. Erskine's serum. It wouldn't take much to finish her task, but she couldn't do that without her equipment. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she'd ever sworn at someone. Had she ever sworn at someone? Maybe she'd spent too much time with the others. They seemed to be rubbing off on her.
Sighing, she tugged her lab coat off. "I'm going to take a walk and relax. We can't do anything until our equipment is fixed. So you all can do the same. All I ask is someone wait here for the technician's arrival."
"Of course, Dr. Jones," Sheila replied faintly. Elsa nodded and threw them a smile, then turned for the door.
And stopped dead in her tracks.
Steve was standing in the doorway, staring at her. Based on the look he was wearing, he'd overheard her exchange with the moron on the other end of the phone. Her cheeks heated up as embarrassment swept through her. "You heard all of that, didn't you?" she asked him.
He only nodded at her in reply.
"I am so sorry. I'm not usually like that, but... " she trailed off, unable to properly vocalize what she'd been thinking.
Steve lifted a hand and waved off anything she was trying to say. "Don't be sorry. That was great," he told her. His praise sent warmth flooding along her nerve endings, bringing a new flush to her cheeks. "You were wonderful, Elsa."
"Thank you." She tried to quell the sudden fluttering of butterflies in her stomach. His praise made her feel practically giddy. "Did you want something? I was going to take a walk so I can calm down a little bit."
"I'll come with you," he told her. She nodded and made for the door. He stepped aside and, gentleman that he was, allowed her to exit the lab before him. She stopped and waited while he nodded to everyone in the room before pulling the door shut behind him. When they were walking up the hall, his hand settled on the small of her back. It was a gentle pressure that brought tingles to life under her skin.
She kept quiet as they walked and found that their feet were leading them toward the indoor forest room. It had become a favored place for them to spend time when she wasn't working. And when he wasn't doing... whatever it was he did here on the helicarrier. In fact, she didn't say anything until long after they'd passed through the door into the lush green of the forest room.
The room was like magic. Almost as soon as she entered, she could feel the tension sliding off of her like dirt under a shower's spray. They walked deeper, following that same path they'd followed the first time they'd come here until they were hidden amidst the trees. "You're having troubles?"
She sighed and shook her head. "My equipment is breaking down. Things that were working just fine not more than an hour ago are suddenly large, expensive pieces of crap that won't do anything. And then this... woman tries to tell me to check whether or not a quarter million dollar piece of scientific machinery is plugged in and turned on. I... might have gotten a little upset with her."
"Maybe a little," he smiled at her. She felt the flush creep up her cheeks again. "But I liked it. I liked seeing you like that. It was kind of... sexy." She noted through the rush of pleasure that he'd stopped to search for the right word. She'd almost been able to see him sifting through his vocabulary in an effort to find just the perfect one.
"I'm not normally like that," she told him. "I can only explain my behavior by saying that I've been hanging out with a few people too much lately. They have to be rubbing off on me."
"Elsa, it really is okay. It was kind of amazing to see that side of you. I think I might have a thing for forceful women." The admission came with his own faint blush. He motioned toward the path, indicating that they should head further into the trees. She started forward again. When his hand landed on the small of her back, she had to stifle a shiver. Just being around him was enough to see her hormones running haywire.
As they went deeper into the forest, the trickling sound of running water reached her ears. They were nearing the stream. It had unofficially become their spot, a place where they liked to go to be alone. More often than not, there was always a basket of food and a blanket spread on the ground near the babbling brook. This time, there was nothing but grass. That was okay, because just being here in Steve's company had her feeling less tense. More rational. As long as she didn't think about the things they liked to do here beside the stream.
The minute she thought about his tender kisses and his strong hands... Well, rational thinking went right out the window.
They stopped at the edge of the stream and, for several long moments, simply watched the water tumble and race over the rocks. Standing beside him, Elsa could feel a hint of tension running through him. A look from the corner of her eye showed tight shoulders and a pensive set to his face. He was thinking hard about something and it appeared that, whatever he was thinking about, was weighing heavily on his mind. Perhaps he needed a shoulder? "What's the matter, Steve?"
He blinked and looked up at her. There was confusion in his eyes for a second, then it was gone and he offered her a faint smile and shrugged. "I'm sorry, Elsa. I didn't mean to bring my problems into our walk."
She gave him a look and shook her head. "You aren't. I asked. So tell me what's bothering you. Its plain to see that there's something there. Maybe talking about it will help?"
"I don't know," he said, then fell silent. She waited for him to decide if he wanted to talk or not. The minutes ticked by, a faintly uneasy silence stretching between them. She wondered what bothered him so much that he was left this uncertain about discussing it. Was it something about... them? That thought saw a tiny sliver of fear lodging in her heart. She wanted to ask him if that was the case, but something kept the words locked behind her lips.
He'd talk if he wanted to. Nothing she could say or do would convince him otherwise. She knew him well enough by now to understand that. Finally, he heaved a sigh and looked her way. "There's something really strange happening on the helicarrier. I know of at least a dozen pieces of equipment breaking down. And those don't include anything in your lab. And most of these things had just been inspected. Its... not natural."
"What kinds of things?" Elsa asked, curious despite herself. She shouldn't really be concerned about anything beyond her lab and her equipment, but it was obvious that Steve thought something strange was going on.
"Things that make the helicarrier work, but don't immediately effect its mobility or anything like that. It feels like small pieces of a larger whole," he explained, then gave her a sheepish look. "Does any of that make sense?"
"Actually, it makes perfect sense. Like someone is trying to sabotage the helicarrier, but not outright do it. Is that even possible?" she wondered aloud.
Steve cast his glance around him, as if expecting someone to just pop out of the trees unannounced. When he seemed sure that they were alone, he turned back to her. "I think Fury's worried that HYDRA is up to something. You know that they got a mole into S.H.I.E.L.D. and that mole tried to kill Phoebe. But there are other things that I don't think you know about that add up to some pretty unpleasant ideas when added to the attack on Phoebe. I'm not at liberty to discuss them with you, but trust me. What I know doesn't sound good."
"I believe you. But... if Fury's worried about HYDRA, why isn't he doing anything?" Elsa asked softly. It was hard to believe that the director would let anything go unchallenged.
"He doesn't have any proof. He isn't going to move without it. He's walking a delicate balance right now. The Avenger Initiative is still new enough that people are willing to see how it goes. But one wrong move will have it canceled in a heartbeat."
She nodded, unsure what to say to that. "So you don't think that my equipment breaking down is any kind of coincidence, do you?"
"No. I don't. In fact, I'm willing to bet that everything going wrong is related somehow. I just don't know how or why its happening." He stopped talking and slipped into thought. Elsa watched him, trying hard to push away the unsettling feeling that had suddenly wrapped itself around her.
"What do we do, Steve?" she asked quietly.
He looked at her, eyes honest and sincere. Worried. "I think it might be a good idea to contact Director Fury and let him know about your equipment. I'm pretty sure someone has been keeping him up to date on what's been happening here on the helicarrier."
"I can do that once I get back to my lab," she told him softly.
"Good." He fell silent again for a moment or two, then gave her a serious look. "There's one other thing you can do, Elsa."
"What's that?"
"Something bad is going to happen. Its a feeling I've got deep in my gut." He stopped again and she saw one of his hands tighten to a fist at his side. Then he pulled her into his embrace and hugged her close. "Pray, Elsa. When that thing does happen, people are going to get hurt. Badly. So just pray."
~*~*~*~*~
The burning ache in her muscles told her she'd pushed herself well beyond normal levels of training. She'd moved into the punishment phase some time ago. Each jab made her arms and shoulders shake. Each kick and connect saw her legs trembling. Threatening to give out from underneath her. She knew she should stop, but she wouldn't. Because this punishing work out was her punishment. It had been every day since he'd walked out her door. Because she was a fucking idiot and a bloody coward.
If only she'd told him.
Alex told her brain to shut the fuck up and went back to pounding the heavy bag. She didn't want to hear it because she'd been through this time and time again. And she'd decided that no matter how much she wanted him, she just couldn't take the risk. Maybe that made her a coward in the worst way, but after what had happened the last time, she didn't really dare risk it. Still, the need and want were damned vocal and they tried daily to get her to change her mind. So far, she'd managed to hold on to her resolve, but it was a close thing. And the more her desires fought her, the harder it was to ignore them.
She could still recall the look on his face when he'd walked out her door. It made her hate herself. It almost made her wish she'd been stronger. And that made her feel guilty, as if going back on the decisions she'd made for herself long ago were some kind of betrayal. The amount of guilt she felt over the whole thing could only be truly silenced one of two ways. Either she drank herself into a stupor every night or she spent her nights in the gym, training until she was too tired to do anything but fall asleep as soon as she put her head down. Since going down the fast road to alcoholism wasn't an appealing option, the gym and self-abuse it was.
The discordant crash of guitars filtered into her head and reminded her that she had music going. Since it was late, she was the only one here. Some distraction that had proved to be. She took a moment to mentally name the song playing. Bad Religion by Godsmack echoed loudly in the gym. That brought a snort from her throat. How fitting was that? This whole mess was nothing more than some kind of...
The music ticked off and so did her brain. She was no longer alone.
No one ever disturbed her when she trained so late at night. She could only think of one person who would dare shut off her music and interrupt her private training sessions. Sighing, she drummed up a good head of angry steam and made to face him. He was in for a big surprise if he thought she'd be anymore welcoming now than she had been the last time she'd seen him. "What the fuck do you want?" she asked as she turned, ready to put him on the defensive.
Except it wasn't Clint. Instead, Alex found herself staring at Natasha. The redhead was watching her with narrowed eyes, her lips thin. There was nothing on her face to suggest what the woman was feeling. Alex frowned. "Natasha? What are you doing here?"
The shorter woman stepped closer, crossing the mats covering the floor on silent feet. The intensity of the look she gave Alex was unnerving. When Tasha was only a few feet from her, she stopped and let her stare slide up and down Alex's entire frame. There was such an expression of disgust on her face when she finally brought her eyes back to Alex's that it almost made Alex step back. "I came to see if I could figure out what Clint sees in you."
That took Alex by surprise. She did her best not to let it show. Tasha's gaze swept her from head to foot again.This time, it earned her a snort. "Obviously I'm found lacking," Alex said, crossing her arms over her chest. Natasha said nothing. "Just how is this any of your business?"
"Clint is my partner. You hurt him with your callous treatment. His emotions effect his ability to be a good asset in the field. You used him."
"How exactly did I use him? We had sex. That was all," Alex told her calmly. It was a good thing Natasha didn't have super hearing, or she'd know that Alex's heart was pounding in her chest with the mere mention of the archer.
"You must be both blind and stupid, Alex," Natasha said, disgust dripping from every word. Alex felt her back go up at the insult. She did her best to keep the fact hidden. The last thing she wanted to do was give anything away. To anyone. The corner of the redhead's mouth curled up. "No wonder you were a dismal failure during training."
Alex said nothing to that, instead concentrated on keeping her face blank. "Perhaps your memory is failing you, Natasha. We took the same training courses. We were in the same classes together. You and Miri and I."
Natasha shrugged a shoulder negligently. "What does that matter? Grant was needed elsewhere. You..." she paused to let her gaze rake up and down Alex's frame once more. A sneer curled up her lip. "You just weren't as good as I was."
Alex shook her head. "Again, I think you might be having memory troubles. I passed my training, Tasha."
The other woman laughed, a sharp report of sound that echoed loudly in the nearly empty gym. Then she shook her head. "The only reason you were brought into S.H.I.E.L.D. and made an agent is because Fury liked your uncle."
Alex might have chosen not to believe Natasha's words. But there was a knife's edge in them, nothing but truth that cut right to the quick. Fresh pain blossomed from an old wound, the thick scab that had covered it torn carelessly away by a few well placed words. Along with the pain came a surge of anger and hatred that ignited her soul, burned as brightly as a thousand suns. She knew Tasha saw it by the small smile that pulled the corners of her mouth up and then Tasha was in motion before Alex even knew what she was going to do.
Her fist came up out of nowhere, a blow that would have seen its recipient landing hard on their back had it made contact. But this was Natasha. And as good as Alex thought she was, she knew that Tasha was that much better. After all, the woman's call sign was the Black Widow. She did things in the field that not even Miri got to do. Alex was nothing next to her. But that didn't stop her from pushing her assault.
Too much emotion had been boiling away inside of her the past few days. It was almost as if it had been determined to see her give in to it, bow down to it and acknowledge that she was the world's worst liar. Not only to her family and friends, but to herself. Events that had happened long in the past were fresh and painful in her mind. Mixed with the more recent occurrences, it was enough to make her forget that Natasha could wipe the floor with her in one fell swoop. It made her reckless. And blind. And stupid.
She didn't care, either.
Natasha blocked the blow, came in with one of her own that staggered Alex back and away from her. Alex nearly went down, but caught herself. Found her balance and center. Offered Natasha a smile that told her to bring it. The other woman started forward, feet light and sure. That was when Alex noticed that her opponent was wearing one of the agency issued cat suits. She'd come ready for a fight, had used a few well chosen sentences to goad Alex into one. Curious.
There was no time for thought as the two women met and clashed on the mats. For each punch or kick Alex launched, Natasha had an arm or leg there to block. If she was lucky enough to land a blow, it was a glancing one to Tasha's shoulder or hip. Never full contact, never hard enough to do damage. Never hard enough to stop the laughter in her head.
But for as much as she didn't land a blow anywhere on Natasha, she was still a fully trained agent. And she was capable of blocking her opponent's blows. She did so with some measure of success. Not that she expected to stop every punch or kick the other woman threw at her. It was Natasha and... Yeah. There was that whole Black Widow thing to take into account. Still, Alex managed to block a punch here and a kick there. What she couldn't block, she did her best to avoid. Sometimes her plan worked. Sometimes it didn't. Sometimes, Alex ended up on the mat on her back.
Those were the times when Tasha tried to stomp a foot down into her stomach. Those were the times when Alex would roll and the gymnastics she'd taken as a child would come into play. She rolled away and up onto her feet, centered her balance and tried again.
If Alex had been fully rational and in control of her thoughts, she'd have known that the fight was doomed from the very start. But rational thinking had left her somewhere around the time Clint had put a hand on her at her parents' house during that ridiculous dinner. It hadn't come back yet. So while she knew, somewhere deep inside, that engaging Natasha in hand to hand was asking for trouble, she didn't really acknowledge it on every level. There was part of her that wanted so badly, just once, to pound the living crap out of one of her detractors.
All of her life, she'd felt boxed in by someone else's plans for her. As a child, it had been her mother's desire to see her be the perfect girl child. There had been dance lessons, then music. There had been gymnastics and choir. There had been the comments about growing up to get married and have babies. Even to this day, her mother pushed about such things. Alex never felt good enough where her mother was concerned.
Then there were her brothers, who had done their best to make her understand that she was always going to be their little sister. That they would always watch out for her and protect her so that they could torment her themselves. For a long time, they'd succeeded. But they'd made a fatal mistake in introducing her to cars and engines and grease. She'd taken to mechanics like a fish to water. When they'd realized that she was a full on grease monkey, they'd gone back to treating her like their little sister and she'd once again found herself shoved into a hole into which she didn't fit.
Her father had never really wanted anything of her other than to see her happy. He'd told her that more often than not. But she'd always sensed an underlying note of... sorrow where she was concerned. As if he secretly felt she'd dishonored him somehow.
Even the people she worked with tended to pigeon hole her. The men always thought she would be some kind of easy conquest upon first meetings. Always. She didn't know why, but it was as if she didn't deserve the same kind of respect that she knew Miri and Natasha and Maria Hill got. She'd had to kick ass more than once to prove that she had a right to be where she was. Miri had always respected her, though there were times when Alex thought maybe she was disappointed in her friend somehow. It normally didn't bother her because Miri was her friend, no matter what.
The only one in her life who had never seen her as something other than who she was had been her uncle. Uncle Alex had always told her she could be whoever she wanted to be, do whatever she wanted to do. It had been his insistence that had seen her go to college. He'd been the one to push her into becoming something more than just a simple mechanic when that's what she'd have been perfectly content with. He'd been the one who had never once thought her silly or anything like that. He'd been the one she'd always looked up to, always understood. Always known.
Except, if what Natasha had said was true, maybe she hadn't really known him at all. Was it possible that he'd known Director Fury? If so, did that mean he'd been an agent? The questions left her confused and so angry that she couldn't see straight. If Fury had sought her out because of her Uncle Alex, then the man she'd been named after had to have been working for S.H.I.E.L.D. Which meant that Alex had never known him at all. And that pissed her off more than anything.
Alex channeled that anger into a fresh attack on Tasha. She knew it was hopeless deep down, that she was too off balance and enraged to really take on the other woman. But she didn't let that stop her. She launched herself into a series of powerhouse kicks that would have done serious damage to anyone unprepared. But it was Natasha and she simply blocked and kicked and swept Alex off her feet. When she landed on the mat, back flat while her chest heaved and her body screamed that she stop, Natasha stood over her and stared down at her blankly. "Give up before you get hurt, Quinn. You'll never defeat me."
Alex only smiled, rolled onto her side and managed a scissor kick that caught Natasha unaware. The woman stumbled but didn't fall, then did an impressive hand flip backwards that took her out of Alex's range. Alex was on her feet in an instant, balanced on the toes of her feet and ready for the next attack. It was obvious that Natasha wasn't going to stop until Alex was either unable to get up or dead. Alex was stupidly hoping to avoid both.
She tried to turn her mind off when Tasha came in for another round of punches that promised there would be deep black bruises marring Alex's skin come the next day. Tried to focus instead on the Black Widow's next move. But she couldn't. Her brain wouldn't quit going in circles about her family and her friends and the cluster fuck that she'd made of her personal life.
Over the course of the next ten minutes, Alex found herself on her back half a dozen times. She was tossed over Tasha's shoulder. Thrown down. Had her feet kicked out from under her. Got punched in the face. Pretty much got her ass handed to her. She got up close and personal with a few of Natasha's more exotic and very effective signature moves. And in the end, she found herself face first on the mat, gasping for air and bleeding while sweat ran freely and stung her cuts.
Tasha knelt down so that one knee rested in the middle of her back and kept her pinned, even thought Alex was sure the other woman knew she couldn't so much as lift a finger. Tasha tapped a finger to the back of Alex's skull, a silent warning that Alex chose not to examine too closely, then the other woman was gone.
It wasn't until she was alone, until she managed to roll onto her back even though it hurt every last inch of her body to do so, and staring up at the ceiling that she understood what had just happened. Natasha was a woman of few words. She preferred to let actions speak for her. But the whole fight, which couldn't have lasted more than five minutes, was her way of saying that Alex should stay away from Clint. If she didn't...
Fuck. The work outs were supposed to leave her so tired that she couldn't think. All she could do as she laid there was let her mind wander. And she didn't like much of what she came up with.
The first thing was that Natasha would make her life hell if she even so much as looked at Clint Barton again. Which she doubted would be a problem because he hated her guts. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of him since he'd left her apartment. And that made her wonder why Natasha thought that Alex was the source of Barton's problems. Clearly the other woman had to be reading more into what was going on than was actually there. Besides, it wasn't like he was the one who was having problems. If Alex was being honest with herself...
Right. Moving on, there was the matter of her family. More specifically, her uncle. Was what Natasha had said true? Had Uncle Alex known Nick Fury? Had he been a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent? Was that why Fury had recruited her right out of college? Because... She frowned and closed her eyes. She didn't have a because. It hurt too much to think of such things. If all of it was truth, that meant that Uncle Alex had lied to her. Fury had lied to her. And she'd only gotten her chance based on that lie.
That hurt more than she could say. Because if it was true, then she didn't really belong at S.H.I.E.L.D. She'd made it her career. Had made it her entire life. She'd lied to her family about what she did and her personal life because of it. For what?
Slowly, every muscle screaming in pain, Alex peeled herself off the ground and hobbled toward the towel and her portable radio. God, she couldn't deal with any of this tonight. Slowly, with great care, she gathered up her belongings. She needed to get the fuck out of here and go someplace. Make it all stop.
She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. She was too numb to let them fall. Maybe tomorrow, when she wasn't so bone weary, she could bawl until her nose got snotty and red. But not tonight. Not right now. Now was for cleaning up and heading for the nearest bar. Now was for getting so fucking shit faced that she couldn't think about anything or anyone. Now was for pretending that Clint Barton didn't exist and that a woman she'd long considered a friend as well as a colleague hadn't just beaten the shit out of her because she'd hurt a man.
Tonight was for forgetting that she was hopelessly, head over heels in love with Clint Barton and that she'd never have met him if not for her uncle's interference.
Tomorrow was for making decisions. She had a lot to think about. Things to decide. But not tonight. Tonight, she'd drink until she forgot it all and then she'd pass out and sleep it off.
Tomorrow was when she'd let herself think and feel and react.
Tomorrow was when she'd grieve.
