Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story except Agents Moreau, Kingston, Olivier and Saunders. Everything else belongs to the copyright holders.
Authors notes at the end of the chapter.
It was five o'clock in the morning, and a tired and frustrated Directory Fury sat behind his desk, fingertips pressed together as he looked at the young agent sitting opposite him. He regarded her coolly, before flicking his gaze over the report on his desk. The Agent sat up straight in her chair, calm and collected, her face serene and patient, hands folded in her lap; just waiting. Her slate blue eyes looking into his dark brown eye, not defiantly, not submissively, just impassively.
"Agent Moreau, do you know why you are here?" He asked calmly with a hint of frustration.
"Yes, Director Fury," was the agent's serene, but clear, reply.
"Do you understand why we cannot accept this kind of behaviour?'
"Yes, Director Fury."
"Do you have anything to say in your defence?"
"No, Director Fury."
Directory Fury let out a sharp breath through his nose as he sat back in his chair. "Agent Moreau, you are one of our best up-and-coming infiltrators; why are you continually in my office being reprimanded for sheer idiocy?"
"To be fair, Directory Fury, this is only the third time I have been sent to your office in six months," Agent Moreau replied, as calm and serene as ever.
"That's because you've only been caught three times in the last six months!" Directory Fury snapped. "You broke in to a restricted area! If it weren't for the fact you put the air vent back on upside down, we would never have even known you were in there!"
"Precisely, Director Fury," Agent Moreau replied softly, with a ghost of a smile that was gone before it arrived.
Fury sighed shortly, throwing his hands up slightly. "Agent Moreau, you are to be placed on maximum security prisoner surveillance. Maybe working a job where you will be watched like a hawk will curb you of these irrational tendencies. Your detail starts immediately. Agent Coulson is waiting outside to escort you. Dismissed!"
"Sir!" Agent Moreau stood and saluted sharply, before turning and striding out the door, and saluting Agent Coulson. "Agent Coulson, sir!"
"At ease, Agent," Agent Coulson replied as Moreau fell into step behind him. "You let yourself get caught again."
"Yes, sir," Moreau sighed softly. "It gets boring when you don't get caught."
"And nobody knows just how good you are if you never get caught, am I right?" Coulson replied.
"Genius demands gratification, sir," Moreau sighed again. "I can give you a detailed breakdown of every nut and bolt in every restricted area in this place, but nobody is going to know just how good I am unless I let myself get caught on rare occasions."
"You could do what every other infiltration agent in training does, and just wait for the assigned training missions," Coulson suggested.
"With all due respect, sir, they're a doddle. I could do them half asleep. I like to think of my 'escapades' as extra-curricular activities," Agent Moreau grinned slyly to herself.
"Extra-curricular activities that could see you thrown out of S.H.I.E.L.D., Agent Moreau," Agent Coulson replied in a terse, warning tone. "Remember that. Director Fury will only tolerate such insubordination so long, or somebody will reach above him, and have you thrown out. Your father could throw you out! Fury only tolerates this behaviour because he knows you let yourself get caught. He knows that if you pulled your head in, you could one day be an exceptional agent.
This behaviour is beneath you, Agent Moreau. Getting black marks like this against your permanent record just because you want to show everybody how good you think you are, or prove something to your father, is not worth your career, or your life, if you are ever considered a serious security threat. Think about that a while."
What life? Agent Moreau thought sadly to herself as she dutifully followed Agent Coulson through the labyrinthine corridors that made up the Helicarrier. They stopped as Agent Coulson opened the door to one of the maximum security holding areas and ushered Agent Moreau inside. It was a cavern of a room with a huge, round, glass holding tank in the middle. A control panel stood off to one side, the displays glowing softly. Pacing in the middle of the holding cell was a tall, dark-haired man, wearing a strange green, gold and black outfit, reminiscent of a modern interpretation of Norse armour.
Normally, Moreau was the type to make a cheeky comment, but with Agent Coulson's warning ringing in her ears, she stayed silent and waited to be instructed.
"What is this you have brought to me, Agent Coulson?" The man asked with a teasing lilt to his voice. "Another young agent to be awed by the might of S.H.I.E.L.D. in capturing a god?"
"Loki," Coulson greeted civilly. "This is Agent Moreau. She has been placed on surveillance detail. Basically, she's your new babysitter."
"Ah, a lamb sent to watch the wolf in his cage," Loki chuckled darkly. "Do not fear, little one, for I cannot escape." He spread his hands and took half a step back to indicate his prison cell.
This irked her. "I do not fear you," Agent Moreau replied with disdain. "A shark in an aquarium is more of a threat to me than a defeated 'god' in a glass jar."
"She has fire, Coulson," Loki grinned. "Do you think she would be so bold if it weren't for this?" He tapped a finger against the glass wall, and grinned predatorily at Agent Moreau.
Agent Coulson did not deign to reply to the Asgardian, turning to Agent Moreau instead.
"Agent Moreau, your hours are 0500 to 2100 inclusive. You are not to leave your post until you are released for dinner service in the mess at 1700, and you are to return by 1800 sharp. You will need to take a packed lunch at breakfast service, or organise for a friend to bring you lunch-"
"Packed lunch it is," Moreau muttered darkly under her breath.
Coulson continued, seemingly unfazed by the interruption, "-ablution breaks are to be kept to a minimum. This area is kept on twenty-four hour surveillance, we will know if you wander off. Any further questions?"
"Sir, no, sir!" Agent Moreau saluted.
"Very well. Good day, Agent Moreau," Coulson nodded. As he walked passed her, he whispered to her. "Prove yourself, Moreau. You have such promise; don't squander it on childish behaviours."
"Sir," Moreau replied softly as the huge steel door hissed closed. She turned and looked at Loki, who had been watching and listening intently. "What are you looking at, Frosty?" she snapped shortly.
Loki tutted softly. "That's hardly polite, young Agent. What have I done to anger you?"
"Sorry," Moreau sighed and replied grudgingly. She looked around and dragged a pair of uncomfortable looking fold away chairs over from outside the observation office, setting them up to face one another at a slight angle to the glass prison. She sat in the chair facing the captive, and propped her feet up on the other one.
Loki chuckled at her manner. "You do not seem thrilled with your assignment, little Agent…?"
"I'm ambivalent, to be perfectly honest," Moreau shrugged, nibbling a fingernail. "It's an assignment; I do as they command." She screwed up her nose a little at her last comment.
"Ah," Loki offered no further comment, instead inspecting his 'new babysitter', as Coulson had dubbed her.
She was small and skinny. She couldn't be more than 5'3" tall, and she was lean with a wiry build. Her hair was obviously very long, the colour of fresh blood, but tightly restrained in a severe bun. Her face was a delicate oval, sprinkled lightly with freckles from a childhood spent playing in the sun, her eyes were distant at the moment, and the dark grey-blue of heavy storm clouds. Her nibbling of her nails brought his attention to her mouth, small & soft looking, above a stubborn chin.
Loki watched her as she just sat there quietly. She was obviously worried about something, he could tell that by her distant gaze and the way she was destroying her nails. He surmised by her apathetic attitude, and Coulson's overbearing one, that this girl was obviously in trouble for something, and babysitting him was her punishment.
"What was it you did?" he asked after a few moments silence.
"It's not important," Moreau responded distantly.
"Such a pretty face should not look so burdened," Loki tried to coerce her through charm.
She scoffed gently in response. "Nice try, Silvertongue. I've read stories about you; I'm not going to be swayed by a few hollow words."
"You've read stories about me, Agent Moreau?"
"A few myths and legends," Moreau nodded, inspecting her mauled fingers.
Loki could tell that she had no further desire to speak, so he returned to his pacing, occasionally flicking a glance in her direction. He was thinking himself now, trying to think how best to manipulate this reticent little woman into doing his bidding. He had no desire to be trapped in this glass box any longer than he had to, and if he could get this girl to let him out as soon as his plan was in play, he would. No resource will go untapped, and a willing agent inside S.H.I.E.L.D. could be an asset in coming days. He decided to persist in his attempts to speak with her, even if she did not respond.
"How long is your security detail, Agent Moreau?"
She shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. I just do as I'm told."
"Have you always been such difficult company, you reticent little-?" he bit off his sentence so as not to offend a potential ally.
Moreau just looked up at him with an unreadable expression.
"Exasperating creature!" Loki ground out under his breath. "A mighty god attempts to extend polite conversation, and you spurn him?"
"I'm an atheist," Agent Moreau replied with a shrug. "And you're not 'a mighty god'; you're a captured alien in a glass jar. I'm surprised they haven't started running tests on you, yet. But, I suppose as the son of a the king, you get some sort of diplomatic immunity."
"Odin is not my father!" Loki snapped in response.
"I didn't say Odin," Moreau countered lightly. "Laufey is the King of Jotunheim, is he not?"
Loki was taken aback by her knowledge. And eyed her warily as he paced back and forth in front of her slowly. "Do they give all surveillance agents such in depth knowledge of their charges?"
"No."
"Then how can you know this?!"
"I just told you that I read. Your people, Asgardians and Jotunns alike, have visited Earth in the past. Humans kept records of these events, and the people involved."
"So when you found out that you were to guard me, you decided to do some research?"
"No. I just found out that I was assigned this task this morning. When did you get here?"
"But a few hours ago," Loki replied, his tone had returned to one more civil now that he appeared to be gaining ground. "That is why your knowledge surprised me. Did you begin your research when last my brother and I ventured to this backwater planet?"
"No. It was a childhood interest of mine," Moreau replied, reaching for her bag and taking out a book. Maybe if she had a visible barrier to distance herself from him, he would leave her in peace. She had no wish to talk. She was here to do her sentence, just as he was here to do his. "Speaking of reading, if you'll excuse me?"
Loki sighed loudly, and went and sat on the floor, against the wall to Moreau's right. The two sat in silence, neither companionable nor stony, just silence, for the next few hours. Loki plotted, and Moreau slowly chewed her way through her novel.
Around lunchtime, three other agents came into the holding area. One was a tall red-headed boy, solid and muscular, the other two were girls, one with cropped blonde hair and a tall willowy build, the other a long-haired brunette, short and stocky, but not as short as Moreau.
"Hey, looks like Doctor Moreau found a new freak to play with!" The blonde jibed to her friends as they walked in, who tittered appropriately. "You going to use him in one of your weird experiments?"
Moreau didn't respond at all. She didn't even move, save to turn her page.
"Hey! Freak! Agent Kingston spoke to you!" The boy, who's nametag read Olivier, snapped, waving a hand in front of Moreau's face, but still she refused to acknowledge their presence.
"Think you're too good for us, just because your daddy's on the World Security Council, hey, Morose?" sniped the stocky brunette, who's nametag read Saunders.
Loki started paying attention to these idiot children after these words, but remained seated so as not to draw attention to himself, listening carefully for any other information that might be useful. Moreau still refused to acknowledge her peers' existences, turning yet another page.
The blonde, Kingston, cuffed Moreau across the back of the head. Not enough to hurt badly, just enough to annoy, but still Moreau refused to bite.
"What, daddy didn't send anybody for you to talk to, so you're hanging out with the prisoners now? Is that so they can't run away from you, Morose? Or jump off the runway like that Jameson kid did?" Kingston laughed cruelly at her little jibe.
Just as Kingston cuffed Moreau over the head once more, a security guard came in yelling at the three intruders, who all jumped like startled rabbits.
"HEY! This is a restricted area! You do not have clearance to be here! I'll be reporting this to your superior officers! Get. OUT!" he waited until the three had quickly made their way out the door, before turning to speak a bit softer to Moreau. "Agent Moreau, they didn't bother you none, did they?"
"No, thanks, Devin," Moreau replied with a small smile at the guard.
"A-are you sure?" he ventured carefully. "I heard them say Jameson-"
"It's fine, Devin, really. But thanks for the intervention," Moreau forced a larger smile and waved as Devin returned from whence he came, but once he left, her face crumbled and she buried herself in her book once more. If it weren't for the light sound of Moreau's gentle sniff a few moments later, Loki wouldn't even realised she was crying.
Intrigued, he stood up and walked over to stand in front of her behind the glass.
"Was it the blows, or her words that have injured you so?" Loki asked softly. He was hoping to try and find a way into her confidences by asking about her plight. He truly had no interest in the reasons for her mewling.
"Back off," Moreau replied, frowning harshly to hold back the tears. "Go back to your plotting in the corner."
"I was merely inquiring as to your distress, Agent Moreau," he countered, feigning hurt. "There's no need to be abrasive."
Moreau stood up to stare Loki in the eyes, dark blue meeting pale green.
"I might be weak, but I am not an idiot," Moreau snapped. "I know you heard what that troglodyte Saunders said about my father being on the World Security Council. Sorry to disappoint you, but you could kill me right here and now, and my father wouldn't treat my death any differently than any other low-ranking agent's. You will not coerce me into giving you any information, and my life has no worth to you beyond the possibility of manipulating me into letting you out, which I have no intention of doing. I'm in enough trouble as it is. Leave. Me. In. Peace!"
Loki was surprised at the girl's outburst, as it had not been what he expected at all. He held his hands up in a surrender motion, and backed away, returning to his seat on the floor. Moreau stalked down the stairs and grabbed a tissue out of her bag, angrily wiping her face & blowing her nose before returning to her own seat and her book.
Agent Moreau did not speak another word for the rest of her shift.
Authors Notes:
The 'Doctor Moreau' quip from Agent Kingston was in reference to a 90s horror movie called "The Island of Doctor Moreau" starring Marlon Brando, Val Kilmer and David Thewlis. Definitely worth a watch.
Please Review! :3 ~ Kalliope