For what felt like the hundredth time, Isobel Ross fidgeted with the silver band that encircled her wrist, a sigh passing between parted lips as she glanced up at the clock above the door, and realized that the time had barely moved since the last time she looked. She had been waiting in this exact spot for what felt like ages, although it had probably been only an hour and a half, tops. Even with that knowledge, however, the young woman could not quite help the manner in which her shoulders slumped as she glanced towards the door itself and saw neither sight nor sign of the man she had come here to meet.
He was late. Again. And no matter how many times she tried to tell herself it was nothing, she could not quite shake the fear that today would be the day she walked out of the building and found a somber man in a dark suit waiting for her at the curb, in the place of her father.
Of course, Isobel knew that her fear was, at least for the most part, unfounded; her father's skill in his particular line of work providing ample reassurance that he could, in fact, be trusted to make it through a mission unscathed. But even that was not entirely sufficient to persuade the nervous butterflies in Isobel's stomach to stand down; her shoulders flexing for what felt like the thousandth time as she glanced up at the clock once again.
"Dammit, Dad, where are you?"
"Easy there, killer—too much stress isn't good for you."
"Shut it, Jake" Isobel retorted; hardly bothering to turn to face the source of the intrusion on her thoughts, and sliding over so that the would-be intruder could take a seat, himself "Did you—did you see anything?"
"Nope. Just a little spark of blue light; nothing out of the ordinary."
"Jake—"
"Really, it was just a little spark" Jake pressed; bumping his shoulder against Isobel's, and grinning from ear to ear as he caught her resultant flush "Why are you trying so hard to hide it, anyway? It's not like you're the only one in the universe that can do things that aren't technically within the realm of normal."
"Yeah, but my Dad—"
"Wants to keep you safe. I get it. But that doesn't mean he shouldn't let you live."
"He does let me live" Isobel protested; tucking a lock of dark hair behind an ear, and glancing down to where the silver band still rested on her wrist before going on "I'm going to college, aren't I?"
"I'd hardly call spending the weekends up to your eyeballs in school books living, but who am I to judge?"
"Somehow, I had a feeling you'd see it that way."
"Yeah, well, you know me better than I know myself" Jake quipped; dodging Isobel's attempt at swatting his side in retaliation, and snapping a hand out to grab her wrist as she made a second pass at getting back at him "I thought you said you were trying to keep a low profile."
"I did."
"Beating a guy up hardly seems to fit the bill, don't you think?"
"I'm beating up a guy who deserves it and you know it" Isobel argued; unable to resist a laugh at her friend's antics, even though it was rather quickly cut short by the sound of her cell phone buzzing where it had been placed upon the table "That's probably my Dad—"
"Right. Duty calls."
Sending her friend a good-natured roll of the eyes, Isobel reached for the phone; relief flooding her in eager waves as she read the message on the screen that was ever so obviously from her father.
Meeting ran late, Iz. Be there in fifteen. Feel like takeout? Dad.
"Hey, listen, Jake, I've got to get going" She began; pushing back from her seat, and stretching her arms above her head with a groan as her back gave a muted pop "I'll text you later?"
"Sounds good. Don't get too far on that paper in psych without me."
"I wouldn't dare."
After scooping up her books, and throwing the strap of her purse across her shoulder, Isobel hurried towards the door; her attention so preoccupied that she did not notice how fervently her friend watched as she departed…
Just as she never saw the other man who rose not long after she made it through the door, and moved to follow after her from just a short distance away.
…
Well hello there, dearies! And welcome to another unexpected venture into yet another fandom. I'd pretend to be sorry for coming up with story after story, especially because some of my older works have fallen to the wayside as a result. But I have to admit I'm enjoying these new muses a bit too much to just quit—so I hope that this little snippet meets with your approval, because I would hate to continue working on something that no one had any interest in reading!
As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you that has taken the time to read this, and give it a shot! I can only hope that you are at least partially inclined to leave some feedback—because like always, I would be very very anxious to hear it!
And that, of course leads me to a question. I'm trying to discern who I should pair my OC with, though I appear to be torn between Steve and Bucky…so if any of you have thoughts/preferences feel free to let me know! I'm eager to hear your thoughts!
Until next time (I hope?)
MOMM