Chapter 1

Recovery

"How far are you from the target?"

Tight spaces didn't suit her too well, and it was hot. Her body contorted strangely to fit into the ventilation system and she could hear a fan somewhere in the distance, feel it rumbling the tubing, but it was hardly helping her situation. A bead of sweat ran between hazel eyes and dripped off a round nose. "I'm above it."

"Crusade, we don't have all day."

"Well, given that i'm halfway around the world and it's night here." she paused to fiddle with some equipment, "I have more time than you'd think."

There was a sigh. The transmitter in her ear crackled, "We need that information. We can't allow anyone who isn't Shield to figure out that alien tech."

The woman looked down into the dark room and lowered a line, "You sent me for a reason. I'll get it and bring it home."

She eased into the room from the open ventilation, upside down, hands outstretched. With a slight weight adjustment she eased to a stop before one of the computers and quickly ejected a tiny card. She tucked it into her leotard and whispered, "Target acquired."

"Get out of there. ETA on extraction is three minutes."

Another weight shift would trigger her rigging to pull her back up to the metal tubing. But it wouldn't budge, "Shit."

"Two minutes thirty seconds Crusade, what's the problem?"

"No problem." she pulled a knife off the belt around her middle, "Not yet anyway."

She cut the rope and landed on the floor in complete silence, on the balls of her feet and the tips of her fingers. Almost like a feline. But despite her silent landing the pressure pads on the floor picked up the buck twenty-five weight difference and alarms began to blare loudly. "Tell my ride not to land."

"Are those alarms? Dammit Crusade, in and out in complete silence!"

Her words came in short puffs as she ran down the hall, "Guard timing told me that one would be passing the room in one minute. If I was still hanging there, he would have seen me."

"Where is he now?"

She detached a small baton from her thigh, it sparked on both ends as its length extended from one foot to two. A jab in the neck dropped the Japanese guard like a rock, "Sleeping."

"A minute fourty-five Crusade. You need to get to the roof."

"I'll be there. You just make sure the pilot doesn't land."

"Hei! Anata! Sugu soko o teishi!" A guard feebly held up his hand as if such a gesture would stop the nimble woman.

She held her baton above her head and so both ends faced the walls of the hallway. She pressed the release and it extended again. Digging in just enough to allow her to lift her body weight high enough to make it over the man. She disengaged instantly, landed, and flicked one end of the now five foot pole up and back in an arching motion, catching him in the chin. He twitched on the floor at the hands of the high voltage the blow delivered while Chelsea disappeared through a door labeled in kanji for roof access.

"This place is awfully thin on guards."

"Why would you say that? Anytime anyone says something like that–"

Her Op Manager was right, between her and the east facing side of the building were five men who looked a lot less feeble than the two she'd already taken out. She shortened her baton and put it back at her thigh, "How close is my ride?"

"Fifteen seconds."

"I need them on the west side of the building."

"Extraction, agent needs EVAC on west side, helipad deck. I repeat, agent requesting EVAC from the west side of the tower."

"Roger that."

"No need to come all the way up!" Chelsea turned on her heels and ran in the opposite direction from the five men. Guns started going off and she felt a bullet dig into her left arm. It didn't stop her from leaping off the side of the building, habit causing it almost to look like a dancer leaping across the floor.

The blades of a small helicopter came up to meet her but the bird turned to it's side and the door slid open. She tumbled in, cracking the glass pane of the opposite door. "Are you crazy?!"

She slumped to the floor holding her arm, "No, just doing my job."

There were times, with this job, when Nicholas J. Fury felt more like a daycare provider than the director of Shield. Between super-soldiers, gods, asshole playboys, and who knew what else, someone was always crying for attention.

Then there were the normal ones, his usual agents, who weren't supposed to need babysitting, but there was always at least one. Chelsea 'Crusade' Commons was known as Agent 16 before she started completing back to back retrieval missions without a hiccup.

Until recently that is. Now, her hiccups were getting worse and worse. "Crusade."

The small crowd gathered outside the training room turned to the woman and parted as she stepped away from the glass. Her arm in a sling, but her hazel eyes bright and focused, "Yes sir?"

"You were to report to my office after being released from the medical ward."

"I was on my way sir…"

He glanced back towards the crowd who was now paying them no more mind. "Who's in the simulator?"

Chelsea glanced at her feet, "The soldier."

"Were you gawking, Crusade?" The corner of Fury's lips pulled up just a touch.

"No sir. I stopped to watch for a moment and lost track of time."

"A whole half an hour?"

She blushed, some peachy coloring visible on her caramel cheeks. "I apologize sir."

Fury started walking, her cue to follow. He pressed the button on the elevator and flipped open the black folder in his hands. "We have to make up some sort of cover story for you being caught. The Japanese are claiming that we stole their military secrets."

The woman stayed silent.

"I'm sure creating some type of inside corruption could just soil their credibility and leave us in the clear." He turned a bit to look at her, she was still staring at her feet. "Crusade, I've been having to cover up for you a lot recently. Are you losing your touch?"

"No sir. I've just been…distracted."

The elevator doors opened to the main level of the training room. It was a two story room. The upper story covered in windows for spectators to watch as simulations were carried out. Depending on the simulation, the windows had a blackout function that completely cut visibility. Inside the simulator at the moment was Steve Rogers, battling it out with computer generated french mercenaries who were even shouting obscenely corny lines at the hero in their native tongue.

"Distracted is not a state I need you in right now Crusade."

"Of course sir."

Fury watched her closely as her eyes trained on the man in the room. She watched his every move without blinking. "I think you'd be less distracted if you just talked to him."

Without averting her gaze she said, "I went through the trouble of changing my last name sir. I don't think shaking his hand and sharing war stories about my grandfather are going to do either of us any good."

"If that is how you feel." Behind this man these girls would be the death of him. Agent 13 was giving him the same run around.

"It is. I am sorry for my recent mistakes sir. It won't happen again."

"No, it won't. I'm sending you on leave."

"You can't!"

"You obviously need a break Chelsea. Take it."

The technicians in the room started clapping as the simulation in the chamber ended. With a few beeps and a hiss the door opened and the soldier exited. Her gaze flashed to him before she looked her director in the eye, "Yes sir."

Steve approached the director with a towel half pressed to his face. He caught a glimpse of a mane of curly hair entering the elevator and tried for a better look, "Sir, you never come down and see me."

"I'm well aware of what you can do Cap." he smirked and chuckled a bit, "I was accompanying one of your many fans."

"Who's there?"

Chelsea smiled down at the woman on the bed, "It's just me Aunt Peg."

"Oh…oh! Chelsea, sweetheart, what happened to your arm?"

The woman set a glass of water on the night stand for her aunt and sat in the chair by her bed, "I uh, fell."

The woman chucked some as she regarded the young woman, "You forget I know what you do sweetheart. There are no secretes here."

"Of course Aunt Peg."

Peggy Carter had children of her own, and her children now led normal lives of their own. She only had one niece though, one blood niece from her elder brother's marriage. But when good friends of hers from her years as Agent Carter had children and grandchildren, she adopted quite a few loving nieces and nephews. Chelsea noticed the longing look on her Aunt's face, "Has she been to see you?"

"No, no she hasn't." A cough had her reaching for the glass. She took a sip, feeling the younger woman's worried eyes on her. "I'm fine dear."

"If you say so." She heaved a heavy sigh and slouched in her chair.

Peggy sipped her water for a few moments longer then looked to Chelsea as if the girl had just entered the room, "Well hello dear, who are you?"

Chelsea only smiled softly at the woman and reached out for her had, "My name is Chelsea Jones, Ms. Carter. My grandfather worked with you during the war."

"Oh! Oh my you're his granddaughter. How wonderful to meet you dear."

Tears pricked the young agent's eyes, "Yes, its nice to meet you too."

A motorcycle engine could be heard through the open window. Chelsea wiped her eyes with her available hand and stood. "I have to go Mrs. Carter. It was nice meeting you."

"Have a good one dear. Come back and see me alright?"

"Of course Aunt Peg." she said it slightly under her breath as she left the room and took the stairs two at a time. The door to the small hospice opened and on her way out Chelsea almost smacked into a large chest.

She kept her head down, "Sorry sir."

"It's alright miss…" Steve watched the young woman slide sunglasses onto her face and immediately noticed the wild mane of dark chocolate curls. The same curls he caught a glimpse of in the training room.

"Excuse me!"

The woman stopped, but kept her back to the man. She appeared to take a deep breath before turning to him. Her sunglasses obscuring her face, all but a round nose and pouted lips, "Yes?"

"I haven't seen you here before, but i'm sure I've seen you somewhere else."

"I'm sure you're confused."

"Possibly. He took a step towards her, "May I know your name?"

She hesitated, "Chelsea."

Steve noticed her low comfort level and stopped approaching, instead opting for a smile and nod, "Maybe next time I can get a last name?"

Chelsea smirked, "Have a good day Captain."

Before he could say much of anything else she'd eased herself and her injured arm into the 1960's Charger parked next to his bike and took off. He started into the building but not before saying to himself, "Captain?"

Author's Note: I have yet to decide whether or not this story will be slow moving or not. It takes place from the end of Iron Man 3 / beginning of Agents of Shield, and will end at Age of Ultron. I will touch on both movie plots and the Agents of Shield plot (lightly). My OC is not a hero, nor will she join the avengers. Just follow her story, because I think you'll like it. (there aren't enough 'heroes' of color out there)