Chapter One – Taking The Job

Grant Ward couldn't look into Brock Rumlow's golden eyes. Not for long. He'd known the other man before SHIELD fell, not well – Rumlow had kicked his ass on the training mats as a rookie recruit a few times, and Garrett had spoken highly of him – but this Rumlow was a very different animal.

Ward shuddered as he thought of just how appropriate that analogy was. He'd heard how badly Rumlow had been injured in the Triskelion wreckage. He'd been barely alive when Whitehall got hold of him. A perfect, expendable subject for Whitehall's experiments. And then the Doctor had joined in, added further modifications.

Somehow, Ward didn't think there were going to be many volunteers for the process which had transformed Rumlow into something other than entirely human. Not considering the side effects.

Cal wasn't afraid of Rumlow. Ward wasn't sure Cal was sane enough to be afraid of anything, though, so that wasn't saying much. The Doctor stood there looking directly into Rumlow's golden eyes, detailing the mission calmly.

"Seven to ten days. Long enough for Ward and I to throw off any possible tails, and long enough for her to become very afraid of you and very relieved when we come to collect her."

Rumlow nodded silently.

"But you don't touch her." Ward nerved himself to look into those eyes for a few moments. "You touch her, you don't get paid."

"You mean sexually, obviously." Rumlow's voice was a low rasp, but his tone was calm. "I'm going to have to touch her to move her."

"Yes, sexually. She's mine." Ward hated the fact that his voice cracked on the last word. But he clenched his teeth and met Rumlow's golden gaze until the other man inclined his head slightly.

"I understand." Rumlow returned his attention to Cal. "You have the email address? It will be the only way to reach me."

"I have it, but I still don't see why you won't give us the co-ordinates…"

"Do you not?"

Even Cal looked away then.

Rumlow had left HYDRA after Whitehall's death. Gone merc. No one had dared to stop him. They'd sent one squad to hunt him down and kill him, and Rumlow had sent them back in pieces.

Literally in pieces.

After that HYDRA left him alone. The man disappeared off the map, only contactable via a very dark hole on the DeepWeb if you could afford his services.

However, when Cal and Ward came up with the plan, Rumlow was the only person they could think of who would be able to do the necessary part of hiding Skye – Daisy, remember to call her Daisy – until they were ready to come for her, and suitably terrorising her, without actually being HYDRA. Which they weren't. They'd both cut ties after Whitehall's death.

"When you make the call, and I confirm the second third of the money is in my account, I will deliver the package," Rumlow said quietly. "At which point you make payment of the final third and we all go our separate ways."

Ward nodded grudgingly. The first third of the agreed fee – half a million dollars – had already been paid. He had no idea where Cal planned to get the other million, but he did know that trying to cheat Rumlow out of his money would be signing their own death warrants.

"We're ready, then?" Cal said, offering a hand for Rumlow to shake. The mercenary hesitated before taking it.

Rumlow didn't care for either of the two men. Ward was an arrogant little prick with a weird fixation on this girl, and the fact that she was the Doctor's daughter and the other man was aiding and abetting Ward's obsession didn't quite sit right with Rumlow.

That said, money was money, and this job was far less revolting than many he'd done, before and after becoming a mercenary.

And – perhaps he owed the Doctor a debt. A small one. After Whitehall's experimental treatments had worked – apparently, he was the only survivor of many, many test subjects – Whitehall had wanted to dissect him. The Doctor had convinced him Rumlow was more interesting as a live specimen.

So, a small debt. It justified his decision to take the job, even if he didn't care for it much. So he shook Cal's hand, sneered as Ward didn't offer his, and stood. "Time to go."

So this is the were-Brock fic that I've been pestered so desperately after suggesting it in You Need To Trust Me. He's partnered with Skye in this one, though it's not a soulmates fic and he's not precisely a were either – all will become clear in later chapters!

I will put another chapter up tomorrow and then one every day or so. I have 15 chapters written so far and I'm thinking there will be probably about 25 total so hopefully I will be able to keep up the daily posting.

There will be smut – eventually – but it's a slow build, this one. Hang in there and keep reading (and commenting. I love comments. Comments make me happeeee…)

Oh, and if you're reading on Ao3, yes, there will be a yummy Frank Grillo picture in every chapter, many of them unseen before as I screencap myself from Kingdom – and maybe from CA:TWS or The Purge: Anarchy too, if I get time…