A/N: This is my first fanfic. So, be gentle. Haha. Comments are appreciated :) Also, just giving a heads up. This is something I'm doing in my spare time. I don't go through and edit it heavily, just a quick proof read and leave it at that so some things may be grammatically incorrect and while I apologize for that it's really not on a high to do list. Like I said. I just write this for fun when I can. (:
Chapter One
When I woke I was tangled in the sheets, slick with cold sweat and the bedroom window was open. Rubbing my eyes I kicked off the sheets, scowling to myself and getting out of bed to shut the window tight. I could have sworn that I locked it before bed. But, with the way things had suddenly been snowballing my way it wouldn't be a surprise to learn that I was slowly losing my mind.
Putting my palm to my mouth I yawned loudly. My faithful companion—and the only man in my life—Sully the red-golden retriever lifted his bulky head from the bed and glared. I ignored him and reached out to close the window, the cold biting at my hand. I couldn't wait for winter to be over. Growing up and living in Southern California my entire life had not prepared me for the long, brisk winters of New York City.
Double checking to lock the window I turned around and made sure nothing was out of place. Everything seemed in order, and the wind hadn't knocked or shifted any of the papers off of my desk so at least I'd be able to sleep knowing everything was as it should be. Wrapping my arms around my body I rushed back to the warmth of my bed and pulled the thick comforters over my head. Sully shifted along with the blankets, grunting in annoyance as he wiggled around trying to get comfortable once again. Underneath I smiled at the overly spoiled dog.
Yawning once more I reached out from underneath to pet his large head and soon let sleep claim me. When the sound of my alarm sprang to live I was instantly on my feet, eyes wide open and staring in disbelief at the open window. Grumbling, I walked to the window, slamming it shut and locking it once more. For extra measures I pulled and pushed on it making sure it was really locked. Once satisfied I did another sweep around the room, annoyed that this was the third night in the past month the window opened on its own, and decided that it was time to get a lock. When nothing was amiss I left the bedroom to see Sully sleeping on the couch, his body twisted and feet in the air as he snored loudly with his tongue flopping out. The moment my feet touched the linoleum of the kitchen he was at my side, sitting down with an expectant face.
"You're going to get fat if you keep eating the way you eat," I muttered walking around the fridge and filling his dish with food. The moment the bowl hit the ground he was chowing down.
Rolling my eyes I returned to the kitchen counter and started to prepare a pot of coffee. Setting the timer and pulling out the creamer I set about to making some toast before looking to the clock and realizing I still had to shower. Great, just what I needed my first day late on the job. I guess I'd just have to skip breakfast or at least pick something up on the way.
My stomach growled at me, not at all happy by that choice, and I quickly hoped in the steaming shower. The hot water trickling down my skin felt amazing that the last thing I wanted to do was step out into the cold. After a few small pep talks to myself I braced myself for the cold and turned off the water. Faster than ever I dried myself off and set to getting dressed in my finest dress suit. It was a gift from my dad who was proud of his daughter's new job.
Unfortunately, it wasn't for the kind of job he thought it was. I told him I'd been offered a teaching job at the University in New York. It explained the move from home and wasn't exactly something he'd go snooping around to find out if it were true or not. In reality my new job was far from a teaching job.
For over six years I'd been going to school to study Norse Mythology—in which I hoped I could teach one day—when I was approached my a man named Phil Coulson. He said that with the recent events that had taken place in New Mexico that someone with my set of skills would be a great asset to his division. When he refused to tell me anything else I ended up denying his offer explaining that I'd need more information concerning a job that involved moving to the other side of the country.
A little over a year later he returned again, this time different than the last. I couldn't explain it but looking into his eyes you could just see that something had happened that forever changed him. He explained about the attacks in New York, and the Avenger's initiative. I listened intently, remembering the horror on the news as what was called an alien invasion took place.
After that the entire world changed. No one was the same. When Coulson insisted that my set of skills could help them better understand what was going on who was I to refuse? I accepted his offer and soon learned of something that I didn't even know to be possible. They called themselves S.H.I.E.L.D.: Strategic Hazard Intervention Espionage Logistics Directorate.
And they wanted me to be a part of that. I was moved to New York, told to lie to my family and friends and have my entire life shifted upside down. After several long, excruciating months of gun training, combat training, linguistics training—so much training that my head felt as though it was going to explode—I was finally able to go into the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters as an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. with a title and everything. I was the Norse Mythology consultant; something in which I was very proud of.
Staring at myself in the mirror, and straightening my pencil skirt I sighed heavily. Sully crawled up onto the bed and stared at my reflection. I smiled at him and asked, "So, what do you think?" He yawned and laid down his fat head. I turned around to face him and shook my head. "Thank you. That means a lot."
My eyes flickered to the clock and almost every string of curse words flew from between my lips. Grabbing for my purse I ran out the door and shouted to Sully, "Wish me luck," adding just before I locked the door, "and don't get into any of the food other than what's in your dish."
"Miss—" the receptionist looked down at the stack of papers in front of her and scanned it for a few moments before looking up with a plastic smile, "Waltham." I nodded, forcing a smile and suddenly grateful that I didn't have time to eat. I felt like I was going to throw up. She looked me up and down a couple of times before handing me a badge and a nametag that clipped to the inside of my jacket.
Inhaling deeply I took both from her and the smile on my face was far from forced. Slipping both badge and tag on the inside of my blazer I listened intently on her directions about where to go. Memorizing every single thing she said I briskly thanked her and made my way to the third elevator closest to the giant fern. Once inside I pressed basement floor 6 and watched as the doors closed, finally exhaling once I was alone.
The building that S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters resided in was not at all what I expected. It sat among a bunch of average buildings in New York depicting as a News/TV station. People who worked on the upper floors did indeed work for a new/tv station but those below were Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. After a series of fingerprint, eye and even hair follicle tests you were finally lead to the main entrance of S.H.I.E.L.D. which looked and appeared to be like any other building entrance.
At the front sat a fake-smiled receptionist with a headset around her neat bun and her manicured fingers clacking away at a computer. Several men and women dressed in sharp suits walked with briefcases talking amongst themselves as they rushed to and fro to wherever it was that they were going. Nothing—other than the fact that the entire operation was underground—depicted that it was a secret government facility.
Eagerly, I stepped forward and was instantly greeted by Agent Phil Coulson. He was a nice, older man—probably in his mid-40's with a balding head of hair and kind green eyes. He was about average height for a man—around 5'9—and just a couple inches taller than I was while wearing heels. He was very professional, greeting me with a firm handshake and instantly placing his hands behind his back.
"I'm glad you agreed to join us, Miss Hayden Waltham." He smiled slyly. "Or, should I say Agent Hayden Waltham."
I grinned at the title. It was the first time anyone had called me agent. But, starting today I was no longer in training. I was indeed an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.
He gestured forward with his hand, swooping it across the giant Eagle emblem painted on the floor. "Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D. we are very excited to have an expert on Norse Mythology join us." He began to walk forward and I obediently followed after telling myself to keep calm. "Now, if you'll follow me I will introduce you to Thor and we can get started on—"
I stopped in my tracks. "Thor?"
Coulson eyed me for a few moments before slowly nodding. "Is there a problem?"
"No!" I practically shouted. A few onlookers looked our way and I could feel the heat rise to my face. Blushing wildly I cleared my throat and quietly added, "no, not a problem at all. I just—Thor—like the God of Thunder, Thor?" Again Coulson nodded and I felt as though I was about to swoon or faint or…something.
Coulson reached out to grab for me, steadying me so that I didn't fall and asked the receptionist at the desk to get me a drink of water. I waved his request away and inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry. I just wasn't ready for that. I've been learning about these things for quite literally my enter life. I never thought I'd actually—" I smiled awkwardly and looked him dead in the face, "it's like reading a book and finally getting to meet one of the characters."
"I can assure he's as real as you and I are," he shrugged and lightly added, "but he is indeed quite the character. Besides, it's only fitting that you get to meet him. After all, you'll be spending a lot of time with him in Asgard."
Perhaps the drink of water—or even something stronger—wasn't such a bad idea.
PS: Jessica this story isn't about you.