The cold breeze sliced through him as he wandered the port, his gait slow to suit the ache in his chest. The wound had healed cleanly, though on days such as this the memory of the blade felt all too real.
It had been easy enough to blend into this realm, for their clothing and tongue were not so different from that of Earth. He was here, ostensibly, to search for technology to bring back to SHIELD. His unspoken task, he knew, was to take a vacation.
Raucous cheers brought Phil Coulson back to the present, and he sighed as he glanced at the bar from which they emanated. His days of breaking up fights were over; though he was still fit, he would never regain his full mobility. Besides which, he reflected as he watched a man fly through the holographic window, he was getting too old for this.
Another man joined the first on the ground, and Coulson shook his head as he started to walk past – but the sight of her stopped him.
She stalked through the window, not even blinking as it flickered around her, and grabbed the first man by the throat. Her every move was predatory grace, and there was something feral in her eyes as the rain beat against her chocolate skin. Her voice, when she spoke, was soft and silky, and Coulson leaned against the wall as he watched, intrigued.
"If I ever see your gorram Alliance-loving face again, I'll blow it off. Dong ma?"
She waited until the man forced out a nod, then threw him back onto his groaning companion. The two lay unmoving in the mud as she walked past without a downward glance, shoving once more through the window. Coulson raised an eyebrow as she pushed through the crowd that had gathered to watch, heading straight for her drink. She drained it, slammed the glass on the table, and threw a chit to the barkeep before exiting once more. She didn't look back – but this time, he noted, she used the door.
Coulson watched her until she disappeared into the crowd, thinking that perhaps there was something to this vacation thing.