Ch.1
Fiona walked purposefully down the street, dragging her luggage and desperate to get out of the rain. It wasn't exactly the perfect first day in London. She had always pictured that a vacation to London would be bright and cheery, the exact opposite of her visit so far. The people were, in general, quite rude to her, she already missed her job, and the rain didn't help one bit. She never got time off from work, and now she knew why. Civilian life was incredibly dull, but she had been granted vacation. It wasn't really a vacation, but more of a "sorry-you-almost-died-in-a-freak-invasion-of-earth" sort of thing. Director Fury had allowed most of the SHIELD agents as much time off as they needed to cope with the hell they had been through. Fiona knew that she'd miss her job sooner rather than later, so she had even signed up to be on call. That way SHIELD wouldn't be completely staff-less if those other-wordly assholes from Norse mythology decided to come back. She picked up her pace as she spotted her hotel. She was already chilled to the bone, but decided it wasn't worth putting up with, and broke into a run. Reaching the posh glass doors, she pulled them open eagerly and relished the warmth that hit her. She stomped her shiny black boots on the mat and shook off her trench coat. Her boots made walking on the slick floors difficult, and she slid several times. When she reached the front desk, she smiled warmly at the woman behind it, only to be greeted with a death stare.
"Um, I have a room for Dagger. Fiona Dagger." Fury always advised the agents use aliases, but Fiona loved her name too much to come up with a different one.
"Room 247. Enjoy your stay." The rickety old woman hardly looked like she meant it. Fiona thanked her anyway and headed towards the lift.
She eventually found her room, slid the card in, and popped open the door. Her luggage was tossed on to a chair, unzipped, and ransacked for pyjamas. Slipping her jeans of, she pulled on old gray sweats and collapsed in to bed. She glanced at the clock on the table and saw it was 4am London time. "Goodnight London. Please be nicer tomorrow."
An hour later, her phone buzzed.
"Hello?" She said groggily in to the receiver.
"Agent Dagger?" came Nick Fury's voice at the other end.
"Speaking. How can I help you?" she replied, fumbling for the bedside light.
"There appears to be some disturbance with gamma radiation near you. We think it may have to do with the tesseract." Nick sounded worried. Scared, even. Fiona blurted the first thing that came to mind.
"How do you know where I am?"
"Ms. Dagger, we are a government agency and you didn't use an alias. It's not hard."
Oh, crap Fiona thought. Fury kept on talking though
"I would normally send Coulsen on these investigations, but you're close, and well…" Nick's voice trailed off, not wanting to think about Phil Coulsen's death. Fiona was quiet for a minute. I am Phil's replacement?
"I'll be there. What time?" was all she said.
"10, your time. Call me as soon as you're done. And do you have your badge? We'll send backup to make it more official." Nick Fury reminded her of a mother hen, always fussing over his agents.
"Of course I have my badge. I'm going to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow." She said, flicking off the light and laying back down.
"Goodbye."
Fiona hung up the phone and thought. Had she really been picked to take Coulsen's job, or was it just convenient? He had been her best friend on the job besides Natasha. He had been everybody's friend, but they shared a special bond. They had both believed in The Avengers, before The Avengers had believed in themselves.
"God, that sounds cheesy, but it's true." Fiona rolled over and closed her eyes.
At 8 am London time, her phone buzzed again, this time to remind her to get ready for work.
"Where am I?" she rubbed her eyes "Oh, right. London." It was just as dark and gloomy as the day before. She pushed back the cold hotel sheets and walked over to her case. Searching in vain for a business skirt, she pulled out the next best thing. A blazer, matching trousers, and her favorite deep purple dress shirt was her outfit of choice. Her black hair was straightened, teeth were brushed, and face was washed. Topping it off with mascara and some eyeliner, she finally found her outfit acceptable.
"Showtime!" she posed, looking at herself in the mirror. Assured her gun and tazer were fully concealed, she put on black pumps, slipped her phone and badge in to her pocket, and walked out the door.
Thanks for reading this! Sorry Sherlock isn't in it yet. Next chapter! If you like Sherlock, please check out my other fanfic. That one is not done yet, but I have 4 or 5 chapters of that up. Hugs and Kittens!
