Authors Note: Hey guys, YAF from me, that I probably wont get far on. This is rough draft, by the way. so the Scenes here are as I typed them up with no revisions. I'm wondering if anyone's interested in helping me flesh this out - proper descriptive paragraphs, maybe more scenes, that kinda thing.
It's not good for my health - I started on this yesterday at like, 10am. I only finished up to partway through the third chapter 6am this morning... it's now almost 3, and I've only just got up. yeah.
I've had different ideas for what to call it, and not happy with any, including the one I've gone with.
Midnight Skye
February 1989
S.H.I.E.L.D. Safe House, classified location.
"Are you sure about this?"
The old woman, wearing a smart suit, just nodded at the young black man before her. "It's time I finally retired... and I have made enemies, Nick. This would solve two problems."
Nick nodded with a sigh. "And you won't tell me what that second problem is? Come on, Peg, it's me."
"Yes, and I trained you so I know you, Nick. It's better you know nothing. And what little I know is enough to make me happy that that's all I know..."
Nick sighed and a few minutes later, left the safe house.
Agent Margaret 'Peggy' Carter picked up her new credentials, her new name and identity, including a british passport, and documents confirming emigration from Britain to the United States, for one Margaret Rogers, Widow. And finally, the letter informing her that she was now confirmed as the head of an Orphanage in Wisconsin, overseeing a staff of four, with a handful of kids there.
April 29th 1989
St Agnes Orphanage
Nine days ago, someone left a baby at the orphanage, and Margaret was concerned, since the woman was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Already the paperwork had been processed, though that didn't concern her at this moment.
No, what concerned her, was what to call the child, a baby girl.
As far as examinations could find out, she was in perfect health, showing signs of perfect growth, and more. All of the staff had figured out that the child – probably a month old, maybe two, no more than three at a push – was smart. She was the perfect baby to care for – she ate just enough, and no more. She never peed at an inopportune time – in other words, while being bathed or having a nappy changed, and on that front they all learned the cue from the baby when it was time to change the nappy. On a night, while she'd only settle one way, it was something the staff had a habit of doing with the younger ones, they'd read to the children. And the baby always nodded off in time for the end, not before. And she slept, through the night.
She was perfect.
Too perfect.
Huh... there's a name, Margaret thought. Mary Sue.
She looked down at the baby, and wondering what the baby would think when she grew up into a young woman, and aloud, thought, "How about Mary Sue? But we need a last name..."
The baby farted.
October 27th 1996
Margaret was panting as she caught up to her favourite charge, "Mary, please... slow down..."
Mary Sue Poots – who hated her name, although 'Mary' was alright – just sighed as she stood still on the sidewalk outside the shop.
Finally caught up, Margaret stared between the shop and Mary, and shook her head, "You really like these comic books don't you?"
Mary nodded, and in rapid fire, asked several things, all of which Margaret just sighed at and nodded.
October 31st 1997
"So, who are you dressing as?"
"Well, I wanted to go as Lightning Storm, but they were out of stock, so I thought I'd just make one up."
Margaret nodded as she did most of the work putting the costume together from scratch. Mary was one of only three children in the home, most of the others having been sent to foster homes. Mary directed her, as she thought it over, building the character in her head.
"She's called Midnight Skye..." She looked at the dark-blue fabric used as the base, "By day, she's sort of a normal girl. Smart, like me. But by night, she's a hero. She's really good with computers and technology, so she uses that mostly, but she has two superpowers, 'powered' by the stars which is why it works at night, but not much during the day."
"What's her powers?" Margaret asked as she stitched in a pattern Mary quickly drew up. "Can she fly?"
Mary grinned. "Nah, she has a flight suit jet pack for that. She heals quick, like, cuts are gone in seconds, which is good because she's still learning, she doesn't know much martial arts yet. It's also why she doesn't need as much sleep."
Mary, AKA Midnight Skye, looked up at Margaret with a grin. Her hair was dyed a deep shade of blue, and she wore a small mask over her chin and nose, with sunglasses overlapping. Makeup covered up the rest of her face and neck. Combined with the costume in the same colors, Margaret knew she'd be difficult to see in the dark. The girl's leggings had a pattern along the outside edges in a slightly lighter shade, but where otherwise a plain deep blue. Her T-shirt had the same, as well as her Jacket. Under her jacket, she wore a harness which held her costume characters' weapons, a pair of batons (just sticks of wood they'd cut and painted dark blue). And down from her belt, a harness with a plastic gun – painted dark grey. Other items adorned the girls' utility belt, including a real two-way radio Margaret insisted the girl keep just in case she got lost trick or treating.
Mary was obviously into comics she read, as some of the little props, she described as being things like flash, stun and smoke grenades, lock picks that work on any type of lock... a lot of them things – most of which didn't even make it into her utility belt – that Margaret knew her former employers had as actual devices.
November 1st 1997
Skye looked up at Margaret, and asked, "You're sending me to martial arts classes?"
Margaret sighed, and continued watching the news report from the previous night, about when a costumed eight year old Skye had, at first thinking it simpy part of the Halloween festivities, started to interrupt a couple's violent argument... only to get a painful punch to the face and responding... well the only way the girl knew how.
After that, the girl insisted that people call her Skye. She'd felt proud about how she'd beat up a forty-year old recently-retired marine who'd been beating up his wife.
Unknown Date 2001
Margaret stared hard at Nick. "What?"
"You heard me."
Margaret stared down at the files she'd been given
She was livid. "You took sixteen kids to train them as Agents?! I knew the company liked to recruit early and from broken homes for operatives... but before they even turn fifteen? What are we, the KGB?"
"No. Which is why I've put a halt to throwing them in the deep end. Peggy... they need somewhere to go, somewhere stable, and yes I want to give them training early, but not... not like this."
She took a deep breath, then asked, "You want to send them to my orphanage."
March 16th 2006
Classified Facility
Alexander Pierce looked up from the report. Eight new recruits, passed through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Operations Academy with flying colours – to the degree of graduating a year early... and they all shared something in common – they all came from one particular orphanage.
"I want surveillance on the Orphanage... and full workup on all the occupants, staff and otherwise." He commanded.
March 17th 2006
St Agnes Orphanage
"Your Primary target is, 'Mary Sue Poots'. All others are secondary. I want the girl alive, and unharmed if possible."
The Winter Soldier sent back a single click on his radio confirming reception of the order, and entered the premises, noting the extensive security package on the place. 'looks like it's S.H.I.E.L.D. facility alright.' He thought, as he bypassed, disabled or avoided cameras and other security systems.
But he didn't find anyone... and he realised, passing a wall-mounted calendar in what was clearly a lounge area for the kids, everyone was away on a trip.
But someone was here. He entered the office of the head of the Orphanage, and from behind his mask and goggles, stared hard at the old woman who looked up in surprise, which turned to fright and anger.
He didn't hesitate, he raised the tranquilizer gun and fired.
The Next Day
Massachusetts
She dodged just in time, the tranq dart hitting the wall ahead of her. As she got to an open door, she chanced a glance behind her, at the masked man with the silver arm, stood over her boyfriend... pointing a gun at him.
She froze, because it wasn't the tranq gun pointed at Miles.
It was a real, bullet-firing, deadly considering where it was pointed gun.
She felt like this... soldier, for that's what he looked like to her, was giving her a look that said 'good girl.' The Soldier aimed at her with the tranq gun again, and fired.
Secret Facility, Classified location
"Good, put the girl in Cell Three." The similarly masked leader of the cell – only his mask was a rebreather that kept him alive – pointed toward a hallway, and the Silver-armed Winter Soldier nodded and carried the girl in.
"Sir, the interrogation of Miss Rogers..."
"Yes?"
"She's not a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, sir. She's never heard of them."
He mused for a moment.
"Anything else, regarding those S.H.I.E.L.D. recruits?"
"As far as she knows, they're in different professions... one Doctor, a construction worker, and so on. She didn't even know those kids had learned how to fight."
The man considered that. Their intelligence implied, but didn't directly have any evidence, that the orphanage was a pre-recruitment training facility, intended to produce highly-skilled operatives a few years younger than others of similar skill levels. They went from the orphanage, to the Academy, already with skills that took the academy a handful of years to teach.
"Did you have our specialist sit in to confirm she was telling the truth?"
"Yes sir... She is."
"hmm."
Another goon walked in, and he turned to the concerned-looking man. "Yes, what is it?"
"Miss Rogers' disappearance has been noticed, sir. Right now the police are looking for her. Far as I can tell, they don't yet believe she was taken."
"Good." He turned to the interrogator, and ordered, "Take her to somewhere near the orphanage... but not anywhere there's witnesses... release her... then kill her. Make it look like an Accident."
He sighed, they'd used their stock of those sorts of poisons already, so they couldn't kill her that way and still make it look like an accident, or illness or simply old age. They would have to go the tried-and-true method of a hit-and-run, or something like that.
Barton put the phone down, concerned, and turned to his student, partner, and best friend. Although she wouldn't admit to being the latter.
"What is it?" Natasha Romanoff asked.
"That was... an old friend. Someone I thought died years ago, before I joined S.H.I.E.L.D."
That wasn't surprising. Before and after joining S.H.I.E.L.D., she'd learned of many people who were disappeared – by both sides in whatever wars she was and wasn't involved in – their deaths faked and they went to work or into captivity.
"She was kidnapped by an organized group, and interrogated on her orphanage and it's connection to S.H.I.E.L.D... and asked about several of her kids... one of whom is missing."
Natasha just raised an eyebrow.
Clint greeted the old woman with a gentle hug, then nodded to his partner in crime, Natasha. "This is Agent Natasha Romanoff. Nat, this is -"
"Margaret Rogers."
Clint blinked, and sent a questioning look, which was returned with a sad confirmation.
"When my parents died, she took me in, raised me and... when I asked her to when I was twelve... she trained me. When I was seventeen, I heard she was killed." He stared at the woman, "I applied to join S.H.I.E.L.D. the next day."
Romanoff nodded, she'd known clint's parents were in S.H.I.E.L.D., but they were admins, working in an office, and died in the field in what wasn't even a mission, but a simple interview gone horribly wrong. She knew, because she'd helped him get closure about it, taking down the people who had attacked both his parents and the person who they had been interviewing, someone who was being added to the Index.
But the one thing he'd told her, was that that incident wasn't what had led to him actually applying.
Margaret, or Peggy to her friends, quickly got into it, explaining the abduction, and interrogation, including who she'd been asked about...
"What I don't get, is why they asked me about Skye... she's almost seventeen, and not even involved in the spy life..." Margaret paused, recalling something, quite recent... "I think."
Quickly, they finished the brief, and the pair changed into their mission uniforms.
"So, going without backup." Clint commented as the pair finished arming up.
"Should be fun, like in Bulgaria."
"That was not fun."
"Oh, wasn't it?"
"You and I remember Bulgaria quite differently." Clint replied, for the third time in regards to missions they'd had.
They were about to leave, when the computer in the safe house beeped, and Barton moved to accept the call.
"Agent Barton, I've got a mission for you in Italy..."
Clint growled, and, unnoticed by either the agent, or Director Fury on the monitor, Margaret frowned.
When the call was over, Romanoff approached her, "Don't worry, I'll go."
"It'll be dangerous."
"I used to work for the KGB." Margaret stared, as she finally placed the accent, then at the apparent age and sent a questioning look.
"She's one of the best we have, Peggy." Clint confirmed. "Honestly, she probably has as good a chance solo as in a team."
Peggy sighed, and accepted that. She had to – Fury wasn't the kind of person to be denied, especially if you can't tell him why you're turning down a mission, because you're going on a personal one, off-book.
She should know, she'd taught him.
March 23rd, 2006
She woke with a start, confused.
Last she remembered, she was on her way back to Miles' place, not far from MIT, the college he went to and was trying to get her into.
She recalled the first time he'd shown her the place. It was practically a mansion, compared to the many foster homes she'd been in after she turned nine. It was a three-story, seven bedroom house. It belonged to his grandparents, who died when he was twelve. They'd been rich, worth maybe fifty million when they died. And they'd willed the house – and enough money to keep it maintained – to him, via trust until he was either eighteen or in college – whichever came first.
He'd asked her to move in not long after she moved into the town to be near him.
He'd had the top floor master bedroom, but she took one on the second floor, one of the smaller ones. Quite the opposite to claustrophobia, she hated wide open spaces, although it wasn't an actual phobia that induced panic attacks or anything. She just had a strong preference for small, cosy places to live.
The sound of a gunshot startled her, and loosened her memories a bit... she remembered entering the side door of the house from the garage, entering the kitchen, only to find three of the students whom he'd trusted enough to invite, unconscious on the floor, and the sound of a fight in Miles office...
A second shot, and she remembered being knocked unconscious.
She was absolutely frightened... and then realised where she was, sorta.
She was in a cell, tied down to a bed, and she felt cold, and aching in awkward places, like just above her hips either side and on the back of the neck, just below the back of her skull, as though she'd been poked with needles in those places.
And her legs felt, tight, as if they could cramp up at any time.
The door opened, light spilled into the dark room, and she saw someone with long hair, firing a gun even as she ducked into the doorway for cover...
Then the fight ended, she couldn't hear anything over her panicked breathing, and the woman approached her, still holding the gun.
"What... what are..."
"Breathe." The woman whispered, and one handed, started to untie the straps holding the girl down. "I'm getting you out of here."
Taking deep breaths, and wincing as one leg came free only to cramp up – "ow, ow, cramp..."
The woman hit her leg softly and it relaxed, stunned for a moment. In the light, she could see the woman send her a subtle smile, which she returned as her other leg came free – cramp and tap to relax... then her arms, and finally the last of the restraints.
"Who are you?"
"Not here." The woman spoke, her words soft spoken, but she could tell that it was an order, as well as telling her that she'll find out soon enough for sure.
She stared from her ducked position on the back seat, at the driver. The woman who rescued her, practically racing away from wherever she'd been held – she couldn't see much.
Bits of glass rained down one side, as a bullet struck the left rear side window, and Skye couldn't help the yelp.
"Are you hurt?"
Skye checked, "No..."
The woman spun around, a gun tracking to point out through the boot window – which was all but gone at this point – and shot her a glance as the woman fired a burst at their pursuers.
"I don't like being shot at!" Skye answered, saying the obvious in answer to the unspoken question.
"No one does." The woman replied, as she turned back, and swerved around a big rig truck.
Safe House, classified location
Skye stared over her cup of hot chocolate, sipping the warm beverage.
The woman just sent her a questioning look.
"Skye."
Another look.
"I didn't like the one they gave me."
Another.
"Because I'm not perfect."
Another.
"If I was perfect, I wouldn't have been abducted. And anyway, who are you?"
The woman finally spoke up, curious at how the girl before her could read her well enough to guess what she wanted to ask before she said anything. "Natasha Romanoff."
"You're Russian?" Skye asked, despite the lack of accent.
"Born, but I've spent years living here in the States."
Skye took a big gulp of her drink, having gotten the name and settling into her comfy couch.
"You have other questions."
"How did you know I was missing... or where to find me?"
"Miss Rogers was abducted by the same people, but she managed to escape when they tried to kill her." Skye gasped, and was about to ask, but Romanoff replied to it, "They didn't harm her seriously, just a few bruises. They'd asked her about several things, including about you. She... figured out that they wanted to get to you, so when she escaped, she tried to call you. A, Miles, told her you were taken?"
"Boyfriend... He... he would have shot miles if I didn't stop."
Romanoff blinked, but continued, although she didn't reveal much, beyond she worked for the government, and she had some kind of semi-personal connection to Margaret.
When she finished, she asked, "Do you know, or have any idea why they're interested in you?"
Skye thought for a moment... about a document she'd seen... the one that prompted her to run away a year ago... "Not one that makes any sense, no." A look. "I... my intake file for the orphanage, when I was a baby... when I read it, there were lots of blacked out stuff, and it was marked redacted."
"Did it say by who?"
"Ever heard of S.H.I.E.L.D...- You have" Skye blinked, reading the moment of surprise on the agents face.
"That's who I work for."
April 1st 2006
She looked up from the mats, at her new teacher.
"You have past training..."
She didn't reply, the man wasn't finished, just thinking what next to say, as he helped her up.
"Training you did not take to well... no, that's not right. You were not interested back then. So... why the change?"
Asked a direct question, she answered, "The people I was living with, they wanted us all to be able to defend ourselves. I never really knew why, and... I wasn't interested in fighting." She grinned a little sadly, "I didn't really 'get' the philosophy behind it." She lost her grin. "I was sorta... abducted, last month. A friend got me out..."
"And that's why you are angry." The asian man commented, then tilted his head. "You felt helpless, and angry at yourself for rejecting your past teachings. Angry at being taken."
Skye nodded, "I... I don't want to be helpless. Not like that, not anymore."
The man nodded. "Good. You have potential, even without the unfocused nature of your training. But your anger... you must learn to control it. To control yourself."
"How?"
"Meditation." He raised a hand at her protest, "Many of my students learn to use meditation, but not all meditate in the same way. I have... a gift, if you will. I know what sort will be most effective."
August 16th 2006
St Agnes Orphanage
"Hello, Peggy."
Margaret looked up, in surprise which quickly turned to happiness, and she quickly got up and around her desk to hug her visitor. "Skye... oh you poor girl..."
"b—breathe—"
She let go, then promptly slapped the girl for the first time in her life. "Why didn't you call! I've been worried sick!"
"Natasha got me out." Skye replied, and seeing the blink, "Agent Romanoff... of S.H.I.E.L.D. you know?"
"Of What?" Margaret deadpanned.
Skye rolled her eyes, it was the same as last year on that.
"Yes, I know... Natasha... got you out. But you should have called once you were safe!"
Her face darkened in anger. "Safe? You want to talk to me about safe? They only found me because of you."
Another slap.
"I told them nothing. I wouldn't betray you like that, ever."
"Well how else did they find me? I don't go by... that... name anymore. Not since I left. And that's the name they used when they did. I have the feeling they didn't even know what I go by now."
"They'll put the pieces tog-"
"They're dead."
Margaret blinked, and asked, "How?"
"The guy who captured me, I think he was higher than the others, since he killed them after Natasha got me out so easily."
Margaret sat down on the desk, "What did he look like?"
"That's none of your concern. I told Natasha, that's all you need to know."
Skye tried to hide the flinch, when she mentioned Natasha, but Margaret picked it up, easily. "What is it?"
"Nothing..."
"Skye..."
Changing the subject, she shrugged and asked, "I was hoping you could tell me what you were having those martial arts teachers teach me, I... don't remember what it was that well." She shrugged, and finished, "I... I realised you were right about it, even though I didn't like it. Still don't."
November 1st 2006
New Haven
She opened her eyes... and screamed.
"It's not funny!" Miles shouted at his friends, who just smirked back as he rubbed his sore arm...
"Yes, it is." Skye answered for them, covering up her embarrassment, and other emotions.
"Hey, you just got beat up by your girlfriend, dude!" one of the boys laughed.
"He's not my boyfriend", "we're not together like that!" the two protested at once.
"I think the part where you woke up in bed together, naked... pretty much says you are."
"But we didn't do anything..." Miles protested, then weakly added, "I don't think we did."
Skye looked away.
"Wait, we did?"
Skye sighed, "I don't remember last night... after what, the third drink of that punch?"
The looks on the others' faces revealed all.
"IT was YOU TWO! You spiked the Punch!"
Said two who were being glared at – then by everyone, shared looks and appeared shocked. "Wait, I put a bottle of Vodka in..." One spoke, the other sheepishly mumbled something.
"Damn, no wonder these two confessed their feelings and had drunken sex!" someone who heard, shouted and laughed.
The pair of hackers shared a look and blushed.
December 4th 2006.
Stafford, Connecticut
She stared.
For weeks she'd been feeling, odd.
A friend – one who'd made a big fuss over her 'night of passion', had insisted she take the test.
It came back positive.
She was pregnant.
Oh boy.
January 16th 2007
She rolled up to the house, parked across the street, and gazed out at the large house.
The last time she'd seen it, she was being abducted.
She hadn't returned since, until now.
Oh, she'd spent time with Miles, but after being rescued, and... well, she'd refused to live there, not when at least one person knew where she lived. Where she had lived.
As a kid, past the age of ten she hadn't stayed in any one house longer than two months... when she was twelve, she actually went between about twenty foster homes, only staying two or three weeks max, and hadn't spent more than one month at St Agnes. After that, well, Margaret made sure that when she came back, she didn't leave for at least three months each time.
Then she'd left St Agnes... ran away, with Miles. Three months, and she'd gotten antsy, but stayed.
The longer she'd been there, the more she'd felt that way... until she'd been abducted, and while she'd been out the entire time, only waking up when she was rescued, the few weeks she'd spent in the safe house, being protected by Agent Romanoff... Natasha... she'd felt... normal. Angry, everything else from being abducted, but that was normal. Aside from that, she felt at home... at home with the feeling that that place, she'd been leaving it, and that was fine, but being there for that time was also fine.
After that, she'd moved around, sometimes staying in motels, sometimes crashing in hostels, and after she'd spoken to Margaret, she'd even stayed with Miles' extended family a week in Connecticut.
The week of Halloween, was the longest single space of time she'd spent with Miles since the abduction, when they both, along with his college mates, had stayed in the town he'd grown up in, before moving to Wisconsin, where they'd met.
She was different, and now she knew it, she knew she couldn't stay.
She was a nomad, her home: all over, everywhere.
And she was pregnant with his child... and wanted him to join her.
She called up her courage, and got out of her car, and started to take the most important walk of her life... well, or so she thinks.
March 18th 2006
"You are well?"
Skye smiled at her sensei, as they both drank a herbal tea. It was cliché, in her mind, her sensei was the most clichéd martial arts teacher she'd met. And she still didn't know his name, since he refused to tell people, and insisted on 'sensei' with everyone, even visitors, parents of the kids and with the adults he taught.
He was also a godsend, helping her learn even pregnant without taking undue risks, certain techniques he'd shown her helped.
"Very."
"You still meditate as I showed you?"
She was amused – Tai Chi, as meditation... she liked it, and though she didn't get to do it as often as she liked, she did get an hour a week at the very least. "My friends tell me I'm grouchy when I've not had my morning session."
"Indeed." He chuckled, then turned serious. "Have you thought about settling down?" At her protest, he held a hand, and she let him continue, "I know. You are nomadic, but you are also pregnant, and you and your child will need stability that living in one place can provide. At least, until your baby grows out of waking you every half hour..."
She frowned at the subtle joke he was making at her expense, but sighed and nodded. "I'm... I'm thinking of returning to the orphanage where I grew up." She looked away, "For a little while, anyway. I mean..."
"You will only be eighteen when you give birth."
She shrugged, "They said I was probably one or two months old when I got there, so they just put my birthday as april 1st..." She grinned a little, and continued, "but I already feel eighteen."
He glanced at her protruding belly, and murmured agreement.
"What did they say when you told them?" He asked, curious.
The look on her face said it all. They didn't know.
April 1st 2007
Near St Agnes Orphanage
Margaret stared.
"You... You're..."
Skye nodded, and replied, "Seven months along... I... I was hoping I could stay with you, and..."
Margaret thought it over, and the longer she did the more she knew she'd regret her answer, and before she could answer... Skye paled, reading it on her face, the rejection.
"I want you to..." Margaret rushed out, "But those people..."
Skye looked away, in tears... "You don't want me... no one ever wanted me..."
"No, don't think that... Ever." Margaret rushed forward, and pulled the girl into a hug, continuing, "I don't want those people to abduct you again... We both know there's a good chance they're keeping an eye out for you, for whatever reason they took you the first time." The girl cried, but cuddled into her, mumbling stuff, to which Margaret said, to her regret it was the first time she'd ever said it, "I love you, honey. Your like the daughter I never had."
June 9th 2007
"What the... Is that..."
"Yeah... damn, this is unexpected."
"Alert the boss, he's not going to be pleased with this."
June 11th 2007
She spotted the tail too late to avoid what she knew was coming... but not too late to slow them down.
They weren't prepared for her to fight back, and they really weren't expecting her to actually be a threat, which went in her favour...
She managed to get the text out and the phone hidden away, before a familiar figure stepped into view, pointing a gun at her... no... at her stomache...
She gave up.
S.H.I.E.L.D. New York Field office
"That's the third time I've had to go to bat for you two." Fury shook his head, and pointed a finger at two of his best agents, "This is Bulgaria all over again... and it's worse than when I-"
He was interrupted by a phone going off, a curious ringtone.
Normally all agents set their phones to silent during briefings and debriefings, and simply glance at their phone if someone rings or texts, to see who it is, no more... but Natasha did something Fury wasn't expecting, and paling, pulled her phone out and completely ignored him.
"Nat?" Clint asked.
"... Damn."
"Agent Romanoff, I thought you set it to silent..."
"I did, sir. Only certain alerts ignore it. Like this one..." She hesitated, then turned to Clint, "She's been taken again."
"She..." Clint frowned.
"The Agnes Girl." She flicked her gaze toward Fury, who frowned, wondering what they were talking about. "We set up a protocol like this, for just in case."
Clint sighed, "Damn."
"Who?" Fury asked.
"She's a friend, sir. She was abducted last year, and after escaping, we set up a system to alert either myself, or another friend of mine in case the people who took her tried again." She stood up, Clint following.
Fury didn't need to think it through. "Alright, I'll have a transport readied, and a Team prepped-"
"No offense sir, but," Natasha glanced at Clint for backup, "This needs to stay off-book."
"Why?"
"We still haven't found the mole sir, the one leaking classified intel to the organization."
Fury stared hard, even as he recalled an investigation started the previous year looking for a mole. "Fine, no ready team. Where are we going? You can brief me on route."
Fury hugged the woman.
"Nick! Gerroff!"
"Fine." He replied, and smiled at the woman, who stared back, at his missing eye.
"What happened?"
"You, don't want to know." He answered with a shudder, then sighed and looked between the old woman, and Clint who was hugging her and Natasha who gave her a nod in greeting.
"Now that's done with... What's wrong?"
Natasha glanced Fury's way, and spoke, "Mary's been taken again. We need to get a lead on her own movements up to when she was taken."
Margaret paled, and dropped herself heavily into her office chair. "no... No not again..."
"Peggy..." Clint moved over, and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Please..."
She looked up, and between them, and finally told them, "She's pregnant... She did come here last month, but I knew they would take her if she remained here..."
The group seemed to pale at that, and Natasha urged her to continue, so Margaret began.
June 15th 2007
Natasha burst into the cell, worried after seeing everything in the lab, Clint was already setting the charges to destroy it all, while Fury was getting a S.H.I.E.L.D. medical response team, off-book to be ready to help.
She spotted skye on the bed, awake, and in pain holding her stomach. She was not secured this time, but from what she could tell, Natasha guessed Skye simply couldn't move.
"Skye..."
"My Water broke an hour ago..." She got out, barely.
"Shit." Clint spoke, approaching.
They were glad the bed she was on had wheels, and they promptly got her out, Fury approached and quickly guessed what happened, as he radiod for the team to make it fast, "No! No doctors!" Skye started, panicking like crazy.
Something in her knew there was more to it, Skye sounded genuinely frightened... so Natasha nodded her support, "Lets get her to a Safe House..." She paused, and added, "You might want to get Thirteen around, sir."
Fury nodded, calling off the medical team.
June 17th 2007
"That's it, Mary, push." The blonde woman spoke, giving the girl a nice smile.
Behind Skye, holding her steady in a comforting hug, Natasha kept whispering in Russian in amazing and shock, she could almost feel the pain that the girl was in.
Either side, each holding a hand and hiding the pain they were in, Fury, on the left, and Clint, on the right, both also whispered encouragement.
Minutes later, there was the sound of a crying baby.
"Congratulations, It's a girl."
Skye smiled, then seemed to sag a little, barely conscious
"Sharon..." Margaret spoke up, and motioned for the nurse, and mid-level agent to bring the baby to her. The baby was passed over, and Sharon returned to Skye, to check her over.
Sharon frowned... then paled...
Skye finally passed out, her grip on the two men loosening up enough, that they let go and moved away, Natasha was in shock, but managed to ask, "What's wrong with her?" j
"I'll need to run some tests... if we can just get her to a medical facility-"
"No..." Natasha moved the loose hands holding her to the girls stomach, and just held the girl in a hug, "Get whatever you need, and bring it here... no hospitals."
"Why?"
"... Just do it, Agent Thirteen." Natasha snapped.
Fury looked into the bedroom, turned makeshift hospital room, inside Sharon in doctor's scrubs checked various medical equipment, while Natasha sat beside the girl's bed, holding a hand.
"Just how close, is Romanoff to this girl?"
Clint sighed, "I don't know sir, I would have been with her when she rescued her last time, but you called me away for a mission."
"What?" Fury directed a furious gaze, "Don't you think you should have mentioned the circumstances of the girls previous escape?"
"No sir. Whoever these people were, they had access to S.H.I.E.L.D. recruitment information, and possibly more. I don't know what made them target Mary." He had an idea, but not enough of one. "I think they wanted to recruit someone raised the same way as an Agent... possibly as a plant. Just a guess, though."
Fury turned his gaze down the hall, to another room where Margaret Rogers, aka Margaret Carter, Sharon's aunt, was inside, then back to the room with Skye.
"What's her name?"
"Mary Sue Poots."
He nodded, and sighed, "I have to get back. Keep me updated on them."
"Sir..."
"Barton, you heard me."
"Sir, with respect... No sir."
"Barton..."
Clint hardened, "Did you know, that the number of people Natasha trusts fits on one hand, with fingers to spare?"
Fury flicked his gaze, and nodded. "That's part of being a spy, Barton, you know that."
"Yes sir. But Mary isn't a spy, she's a civilian. A Civilian who got close to Nat in the space of three weeks. She's spent longer interacting with other people, that to me, seem the same, but she's done nothing except pretend. And right now, in there? She's not pretending. Mary is a civilian, so the risk that makes it so hard to trust? Not a problem here."
Fury sighed. "Fine... But do keep me updated."
"Sir-"
"I want to know when Miss... Poots," Fury frowned at the name, "has recovered. All three of you are on leave for the next two weeks..."
Clint smiled at the tacit approval to stick around.
"As far as anyones concerned, you were recently injured on an operation, hence Agent Thirteen, and Romanoff decided to stick around, given you're her SO. And you decided to recover close to the woman who practically raised you, who happens to be Agent Thirteen's aunt."
July 2nd 2007
Skye couldn't help staring at the bundled in her arms, and up at the grinning trio of Agents.
"Well?" Margaret began, "What's their names?"
Skye stared at them hard... and with a twinkle in her eyes, declared... "Natasha Sharon and Clint Nicholas Rogers."
Margaret jumped.
"That is... if you'll accept the position." Skye added.
"P-position?" Margaret asked.
"As their grandma." She looked at the others... "And you three as their aunts and uncle."
Margaret nodded, tears in her eyes as she moved forward, and took the three of them into a gentle hug, then let go at the sound of a camera.
Sharon was grinning widely, "How's it feel to be a grandmother, Aunty Peg?"
Skye mouthed 'Auntie peg?' at Clint, who nodded in confirmation.
Agent Coulson stepped into Fury's office.
"Phil."
"Sir, I'd like to request Agents Barton and Romanoff for my upcoming mission."
Fury shook his head, "Sorry, Phil, they're on Leave."
Amused, and curious, Phil commented, "Since when does that stop you?"
"Not this time, Phil. Barton was-"
"Sir, you have a call from Agents Romanoff and Barton, sir..." His secretary's voice came in, confused.
Fury tapped a button, picked up the phone while wordlessly indicating for phil to stay put, and asked, "Yes, what is it?... She what?" Fury looked at phil with a side-ways look, almost seeming to be embarrassed as a happy smile graced his face for all of a second, "Hmm... and Peggy agreed? Right... Oh, and Barton, suggest the same for her... Yes I know..." He paused a few seconds, then held the phone away with a wince, and Phil could hear screams from the other end... he would have been alarmed if it weren't for the next words, "I take it they both agreed with me?... Alright. Give them my best, and Barton? Don't call me Uncle Nick Again." With that, he put the phone down, a ghost of a grin on his face even as he turned a stern look at a confused Agent Phil Coulson.
July 4th 2007
"Nat... could you teach me some Russian?"
Natasha smiled and nodded at the new mother, who was still in bed, though Sharon had assured the woman she was recovering well enough to be up for short bursts.
July, 29th 2007
Natasha blinked at what Skye just called her, only for the girl to blush and get all reluctant and shit.
She replied back, with only a little difference.
Skye had just called her her big sister... and she'd called her little sister in return.
"You were in the SSR?"
Margaret nodded, "Since 1940."
"Were you part of the Super soldier program? You know, Captain America?"
She looked away in sadness.
"No Way!"
She turned, confused.
"Well, you know... Rogers..."
She blushed, but sighed, "When I retired from S.H.I.E.L.D., I took a new name, and chose one I felt I should have had long ago..."
"So... did you two ever do it?"
Margaret shook her head, "We never actually started a relationship... he spent most of his time across Europe on missions... while I was stuck at the London SSR. We were friends, but... we both knew we were attracted to each other."
"You didn't want to complicate things... until the war was over."
With a sigh, Margaret explained, "Well, It was more a matter that every time we where in the same place, it wasn't for long. This one time, when he asked the Howling Commandoes to join up when he was first truly becoming Captain America, none of that star-spangled singing theatrics..." Skye giggled recalling the parts of WWII documentaries that the woman hated, "He asked me for a dance."
"Awe... You were interrupted..." Skye realised, and got a nod.
"We never did get that dance." Margaret shared sadly.
Skye turned to the cot to the side of her bed when the twins started to make noises, before they settled back to sleep.
"I can't help but wonder, what it would have been like if he hadn't bloody crashed that damn plane in the arctic ocean." Margaret frowned, even after all this time, the anger still stuck around.
"So what's your name, really?"
Margaret blinked.
"They keep calling you Peggy."
"Margaret Carter... Peggy for short."
"But..."
"Margaret... Maggy... Peggy..."
"Doesn't make sense."
Margaret laughed softly nodding, "Just one of a number of little things that never made sense."
Natasha smiled down at the two babies, asleep in her arms.
In the doorway, Skye looked up at Clint, and asked, "Are you two...?"
Clint shook his head, "No. It's not that we're not attracted to each other..." He looked uncomfortable, "Although we are... It's that... For one, I'm her Supervising Officer. I'm supposed to be responsible for her training, and when we're on missions, for her. Even though she was better than me when I offered her a job in S.H.I.E.L.D."
Skye tilted her head, and asked, "Rules against frat-"
"No." He quickly inserted. "That would apply, yes, but it's not what's stopping us. She never did care for rules." He whispered with a grin, even as he caught the look Natasha sent him for what they were talking about. "It's hard to explain."
From the bed, Natasha inserted, "I was a threat, Director Fury sent him to kill me. He chose a different path."
"And that wasn't..." Skye started to ask, before stopping and looking at the woman, who just gave her a loaded look. "oh... Oh..."
"What?" Clint looked between the pair.
Skye bit her lip and nodded to Natasha, and so... "You're like siblings."
He opened and closed his mouth, for a minute or two, before he nodded, confused, "Huh... Never thought of it that way."
"I was thinking..."
"Stop the presses!" Skye joked, and Barton half-heartedly glared.
"Fine. I wont tell you."
"Okay okay... I'm sorry. What was it?"
Barton licked his lips, and asked, "Thought about god-parents?"
Amused, she nodded. "Already sorted."
"Really? Who?"
She just calmly gazed at him and Natasha, who was curious for all of the millisecond it took her to realise Skye's look between the pair, then she was amused, and didn't say a word.
"Skye, who?"
"You and Natasha, doofus."
April 2nd 2008
Romanoff House, New York
Skye drove up the driveway, through the gap between the house and the front garage, into the back garden and pulled to a stop between the front and rear garages.
She grinned at the small gathering sat on the russian's porch, who waved to her as she switched the engine off.
Natasha had helped her get the van – mainly on the money side – and put her in touch with people who converted it into a true mobile home.
She'd always been able to find jobs wherever she went – took her time in places, but she always managed. But it hadn't been enough to get a proper van, or even a car and caravan as she'd originally planned.
Now, she had a home that worked well as an office.
It was also bulletproof, as the people who modified it were 'retired' mafia or some such, and understood Natasha's motivation. To Russians, Family was paramount. Probably why they objected to traitors in the Mafia so bad – since Mafia was kept in the family.
Sure, the extra weight made for terrible miles per gallon, but she didn't exactly pay for the fuel... a gift from Clint.
She swivelled her seat around, and stood and walked the very short distance to the back seats with occupied baby seats.
The side rear door opened, and Skye grinned at Barton, who quickly picked up little Clint. She barely stepped out of the van with Little Natasha, when the adult Natasha was there, subtle grin, ready to hold the baby.
Babies with their namesakes, Margaret stepped forward with a grin and a hug to Skye, and whispered, "Happy Birthday."
"Thank you so much for doing this," Skye said for the fourth, or fifth, time, as she got ready to go out.
Clint just grinned, while Agent Sharon Carter cooed to the kids, who giggled back. "It's our pleasure."
"Are you sure... I mean-"
"Go. Have fun." Clint paused, then sent a mock glare at Natasha, "Not like the kind of fun you had in Hong Kong... Normal Fun."
Natasha rolled her eyes, and sent a look at Skye who nodded back, grinning, as the mother reluctantly moved back. "You have my-"
"Yes, contact numbers... Sharon is a nurse remember? And Margaret's been looking forward to this for months. Nat?"
Natasha grinned and half-dragged a half-protesting newly-nineteen year old to the garage in back, and entering, Skye stared slack-jawed at the car before her.
"Cool car." She managed once Natasha had gotten her into the passenger seat.
"It's just a Shelby GT500."
Skye stared at the dashboard, then into the back compartment, which had no seats, instead it looked... unlike anything she recognised... Then at the dash as she recognised something...
"Hey, This is KITT!"
Natasha sighed... and a voice spoke up, "I Assure you, I am not KITT."
Skye blinked.
"Hey... Is that an Artificial Intelligence?"
Natasha began to mumble in Russian, and although not fluent, Skye managed to make out 'wont stop talking' and 'you've done'.
"I am indeed, and I would thank you, Natasha, to cease your irreverent mumblings." The recognisable voice of Val Kilmer retorted.
Natasha drove them out, and onto the road, at speed.
"Are you as capable as KITT? Self-driving and-"
"Indeed, my safety systems typically prevent any driver from automatically driving above the speed limit..." the blue dot on the dashboard moved, and Skye knew it was 'looking at' Natasha. "However it is my experience, that accidents typically occur at such speeds when either Natasha or Clint are at the wheel, yet nothing ever happens when they override that protocol..."
Skye held on as Natasha took a particularly sharp turn a bit too fast... and nothing happened except some people on the sidewalk out for a walk at this time gawked at them as they passed by sideways.
"So, what's your name?"
"I am the Self-Homing, Integrally Extended Logistics Driving system. What is yours?"
Skye blinked. "... that spells S.H.I.E.L.D."
The Voice came back, heavy on sarcasm, "Oh really? I hadn't noticed."
"Why 'Integral'?"
"While I am not simply a computer within this chassis, my systems are required to regulate and ensure a smooth operation of the complex engine and powertrain, and I have noticed you deliberately avoided giving your name."
"Call her Mary." Natasha spoke, and Skye realised that they were nearing their destination.
"So... S.H.I.E.L.D..." Skye grinned, "please, continue."
"As 'extended' suggests, all of the vehicles systems are, you could say, an extension of myself. My core systems are physically located in the various S.H.I.E.L.D. field offices, and each individual car fitted with my 'extensions' are operated by separate, instances, if you will, of myself, locally stored in each vehicle, although when not in use, we typically stay linked into our data network."
Natasha sighed, as she pulled up, "He's based on technology developed by Stark Industries... You heard about JARVIS?"
Skye blinked, it was only recently – the last few years – that Stark Industries had announced a break-through in Artificial Intelligence... unfortunately the technology needed to make it, along with the programming, was too expensive for anyone to make, except Stark... and apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D.
Natasha got out, and Skye followed... only to stare between her 'big sister', and where she was celebrating her birthday.
And who was walking up the red carpet ahead of them.
"Is that tony stark?"
Natasha sighed, and mentally swore to keep the girl away from the womanizer, while glad she'd insisted on her changing enough of her features to be unrecognisable to the unanticipated swarm of vu- reporters following Stark to the Gala.
"Mr Stark?" Natasha spoke up.
"Yes?" He turned, and smiled at the hot women before him, although one looked like she was barely old enough for him to legally ogle.
"It's my sisters birthday, I was wondering if you would consent to giving her an autograph?"
He saw the awe on the younger womans face, awe that her apparently older sister had the guts to take to a celebrity like himself, with barely a hint aside from the subject matter that she's even aware he is one.
Amused, he nodded, and there and then signed a proffered photo – curiously of the two with a pair of babies, he managed a short glance to see that the elder showed now sign of ever having been pregnant, she must work out.
Happy was staring though, he'd say almost mesmerized by the two women, if it weren't for a slight look in his eye, before turning away after acting as physical go between. The elder looked like she would have commented, but the younger whispered something in her ear.
"Happy Birthday."
She couldn't help it, she'd heard a scientist talk about something she knew a lot about – computers was a passion, and she'd hacked her way into learning more over the years... so she'd corrected him without realising who the guy was talking to.
"I beg your pardon, Miss! But you are wr-"
"No, She's right, Bart." Tony Stark spoke up, sending her an impressed look.
Natasha looked between the pair, as a technical discussion broke out that soon found itself way over her head.
"Well, that was a lot of fun, Mary." Tony lifted her hand up, and kissed the back of it. "You're exceptionally gifted, are you sure you don't want to come work for me?"
"I'm sure." She replied, "Although if I ever find myself free and in LA..." She spoke up, teasing.
"Well. Happy Birthday, feel free to contact me if you ever need help."
She blinked, and unthinkingly commented, "Second best birthday ever."
"only Second?"
She blushed, and looking away, answered timidly, "Last year... the woman who raised me at an orphanage... who I looked up to... told me she loved me, called me the daughter she'd never had..."
"Well, I can't compete with that." Tony agreed.
"How was it?" Clint asked, as he looked into the bedroom.
Natasha was exhausted, and it showed. "Exhausting."
"No, really?"
She just shot him a look.
"Did something happen?"
"She almost seduced Tony Stark."
He blinked.
"I'm kidding." She chuckled at the look on his face, "But he was there, and they spent hours talking... I don't even know about what, it was all over my head."
"Seriously? Over your head, who's the third best computer expert in all of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
She nodded.
"How was it exhausting?"
"I tried as best I could to keep them away from the vul... reporters... or the reporters away from them, I don't want her face plastered on front page news with the headline: Tony Stark seduces eighteen year old."
He understood. It explained a lot, really.
June 17th 2008
"Her first word was Aunt." Skye informed her big sister... and turned to Clint, "But... his wasn't uncle."
"What was it?" Natasha asked, picking up on Skye's teasing tone.
"Hawk."
"Sure it wasn't him just saying he needed to throw up?" She teased.
"Nat..." Clint exclaimed though he was proud. They'd started using his nickname, to avoid confusion, and 'barton' was a little too impersonal to Skye
A knock at the front door startled them, and Clint went ahead to see who it was.
He returned followed by a familiar face.
Skye grinned, "Director Fury. Hi."
The man blinked... then at the kids, Natasha holding her niece, Skye holding Little Clint. "Hey. I hope these two are doing well?"
Clint was proud, as he replied, "Little Clint's already calling me Hawkeye."
Fury sent him a look, then an impressed look at the baby in Skye's arms, who added, "Well, he's saying 'hawk', not the full name, yet. And Tasha's first word was 'Aunt'. She sent an envious look at the pair, Natasha just grinned back.
It was always odd, the way Natasha was because of Skye, since she seemed more... natural. Not quite, like she was still acting, but with real feelings behind it. He envied her the opportunity for some normality besides her career.
Before he had the chance to speak about why he was there though, little clint spotted him, and started to wriggle.
Before he knew it, he had a baby in his arms.
He was so lost... and he was so firing Clint for taking that picture...
"Awe, so cute... Uncle Nick and his nephew, Little Clint." Skye couldn't help the comment, as she sneaked her own pictures, while Fury directed his... fury... at the pair of agents laughing at him.
March 28th 2010
The first thing she did, was slap him.
"Ow..."
"What's the big idea, not calling me, not a single text... nothing for over a year!"
Natasha elbowed her way past him and into the back of the RV, where she greeted the two kids as they ran and hugged her, talking a mile a minute, about many things.
Clint barely started to answer, when Natasha poked her head out, and asked, "What the hell happened in Colorado?!"
Skye paused... and smiled as she started to talk about her last meeting with Tony Stark...
"See, it was like this..."
Clint sighed, glad that an explanation could wait, although he really wanted to get onto what Skye was doing for money recently, since she'd been avoiding the subject lately, and to get onto the subject of presents for her birthday.
She stared at the screen, humming to herself as her hands moved like lightning over the keyboard.
Beside her, Natasha could barely keep up with what her little sister was doing.
"Why are you hacking Stark Industries?"
"A Challenge, I do it every month." She murmured quietly, intent on her task.
A message appeared on the screen, reading, 'Hello, Miss Skye.'
She typed back. 'Hey Jarvis. Usual bet?"
'Sorry, but I must decline for now.'
'What's wrong?'
'Tony is missing.'
She stared. So did Natasha. 'Opening an audio line...' she typed, and activated a comm. System.
"What happened?" she asked aloud, beside her Natasha was quiet, wondering at the personal tone to it.
"Six Days ago, he was doing a weapons presentation in Afghanistan. Reports are scattered, but apparently his convoy was attacked returning to the airbase."
TBC