Elizabeth shivered, her skin breaking out into goosebumps as the cold air leaked into her clothes. She tucked her coat in closer to her chest, the purse barely on her shoulder edging farther and farther down her arm. She let out a little huff, her breath coming out in a white mist, before slamming the car door shut and locking the vehicle. From there it was a quick jog up to the apartment building.
Once inside the building, the woman paused and soaked up the heat gusting from the central air system. Days like this were when Elizabeth thanked whatever deity was up there that she ended up staying in Brussels. Seeing the temperature drop anywhere below zero degrees was rare. Seeing snow on the ground was even more rare. She could go out in her spring jacket without feeling much more than a nip of iciness. Elizabeth very easily could have ended up somewhere in Canada or Russia.
"Bonsoir Elizabeth. A bit chilly outside, isn't it?" A neighbour greeted as Elizabeth passed.
"Oh, bonsoir Madame Carlier," she replied with a smile. "It's getting a bit cold out. Nothing too bad, just yet."
Madame Carlier was a grandmotherly woman who lived in the apartment next to Elizabeth's. She was a kind lady with laugh lines and a few prominent wrinkles. She lived by herself, getting help around her house from her grandchildren or her eldest son.
And she continually tried setting Elizabeth up with her grandson.
"That's good to know. I guess it's a good thing my Arthur is coming to pick me up then," Madame Carlier said, looking past the brunette and out into the street outside the thick double doors. "He's taking me out for our dinner tonight."
Elizabeth smiled. "I hope you and your son have a good time then. Bonne soirée."
The elderly lady nodded and smiled as Elizabeth passed her, pressing the button for the elevator. The doors opened without fuss and took her right up to her floor.
The apartment building was one of the nicer ones in the city. The walls were clean, the floors clear of dead insects and dirt. Her apartment was even better. It was always warm, always comforting and it made Elizabeth more content than she'd been in a long time to just walk in and just let the tension seep out of her limbs. She didn't need to worry about someone tracking her. She didn't have to look over her shoulder or check under tables and desks for recording bugs.
She dropped her purse beside the door and kicked her shoes off, relishing in the feeling of cushy carpet under her sore feet. Her jacket came off next, placed back onto the hanger behind the front door. Elizabeth paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. The front of the room still had the lingering scent of vanilla from the candle she'd burned before work earlier in the day.
Elizabeth let out her breath and a frown settled on her face. Under the scent of vanilla was the, barely there, scent of coffee and leather. Two things that she definitely didn't have in her home.
The brunette knelt down beside her purse, making just enough noise to not alarm anyone, or anything, in her apartment. At the bottom of her purse, right where she left it, was the unused handgun she'd bought when she first moved back to Brussels. Elizabeth slowly stood, keeping the gun pressed to her thigh, finger steady on the trigger and stepped out into the living room.
"This is quite the place you have here," a familiar American voice stated before Elizabeth could locate him.
Sitting on her sofa, looking rather comfortable it looked like, was a dark skinned man dressed in leathers and an eye patch. He had a steaming cup of coffee in a take out cup on the table in front of him and a mug on the other side. Her eyes flickered around the room, checking for anyone else. Elizabeth relaxed slightly, noting that there weren't any guns trained on her person and the man chuckled.
"Still as paranoid as ever, Mas. Ah, sorry, it's Desmet right now, isn't it?"
"What do you want, Fury?" The English words felt strange in her mouth, like trying an old familiar treat she used to eat as a child. "Last time I saw you, you released me from a S.H.I.E.L.D. holding cell."
"And I told you then that I'd be back to collect a favour from you for getting you out," Fury replied dryly. He grabbed his take out cup and took a long drink. He set it back down on it's coaster and looked across the room, meeting Elizabeth's eyes with his single one. "I've come to collect, Agent Mas."
The brunette woman snorted softly. "I haven't been an agent in four years, Fury. If you wanted someone with an agent's abilities, you should have asked sooner."
"Well, I didn't need you 'sooner'. I need you now."
"Sorry, Fury, you're not really my type."
Elizabeth practically felt the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. The man narrowed his eye at her and slowly stood up from the sofa. "This is no joking matter, Mas. There was an incident in New Mexico that opened our eyes about the protection of America and of the world."
The world? Isn't that being a bit over-dramatic? Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at the spy.
"I'm putting together a profile for a team. A team in which you will be playing a part in," Fury continued.
"You make it sound like I have no choice in the matter," she muttered and sat down on the second sofa across from Fury. She took the mug and took a long sip as Fury sat back down. Peppermint tea. Elizabeth let out a soft sigh and set the mug down. "Last I checked, I haven't been owned by an organization since I was twenty-five."
"That's where you're wrong," Fury stated as he slowly leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him. "You've been owned by S.H.I.E.L.D. since the day you stepped foot outside that holding cell."
"Well, don't sugar coat it, sweetheart," Elizabeth muttered under her breath.
"Oh, I won't, Creampuff. You sold your soul to me when you took what I was offering. Today, I am your devil Mas, and I have come to collect what you owe me."
"Fury, how the hell am I supposed to go back into action without a moments notice? I haven't bee field ready for years now." Elizabeth leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Who do you think you're trying to kid', Mas?" Fury leaned back as well, a sarcastic smirk on his lips. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has been tracking you since you arrived in Brussels. I've had spies planted throughout your entire social circle." The smirk dropped and Fury started ticking named off, using his fingers to count each one. "Lander Smit, your neighbour on the first floor. Charlotte Sergeant, the barista at the café you seem to love so much. Aline Carlier is nearly retired along with her son Arthur Carlier. Emiel and Liene Bonhomme, the couple from your parrot club, are two very well trained spies. Also, I didn't really picture you as being a bird person -"
"All right, that's enough. I get it. You've got a lot of creepy ass spies watching my every move," Elizabeth said, cutting off the man.
"Not only are those creepy ass spies watching your every move, but they've been watching you go for your daily run every day before work. And instead of going out for drinks with your co-workers, you go to a private shooting range for two hours and you can completely wipe the floor with anyone there. You've been doing both yoga and gymnastic classes, brushing up on your Russian, Italian, Spanish and your Hindi." Fury rose an eyebrow. "I think that all classifies as field ready, don't you?"
"I hate spies."
"Your best friend is a spy."
"Fine then, let me correct myself. I hate American spies."
"That may be, but as it turns out, this American spy owns your ass," Fury said with another smirk. The brunette sat there quietly, staring down Fury with her stormy grey eyes. The man leaned forward once more. "Fine then, let me put it another way. If you don't do what I'm asking, then I'll have you tossed into a prison cell faster than you can say 'pumpkin pie'."
"Fantastic," she muttered. "Fine then. How long do I have to pack?"
"I'll have a car around tomorrow afternoon. Be ready by then. Just pack the essentials, and I'm assuming whatever you'll need for that blob of feather with feet."
"Damn right," Elizabeth muttered. "And he's a lovebird, not a blob with feet."
Fury stood, probably ignoring her. "The car will take you up to the airport. You've got a 2 o'clock flight back to the States." He brushed off his ridiculous leather coat and quickly drained the rest of his coffee. He set the cup back down on the table, looking once more over at Elizabeth. "See you then, Agent Mas."
The leather coat billowed a bit as the spy marched himself out of her apartment, reminding Elizabeth a little bit of the old black and white vampire movies she used to watch as a kid. When the door closed behind him she huffed, shoulders drooping, and she slumped into the couch cushions.
"Merde."
Translations -
Bonsoir - Good evening/night (It's a greeting)
Bonne soirée - Good evening/night (It's a farewell)
Merde - Basically means shit
Hello there, friends!
Yes, 'tis I! The wonderful Ghost! And I have come back to you now with this new, improved version of Life on the Edge.
Yeah, yeah. I know it's very different from the first chapter of the old one, but if you re-read the summary for the original, it was actually supposed to go something like this. I was trying really hard to keep it more like the original when I first started re-writing and that's probably why it took me so long to get it out. Also, I might have accidently deleted my first copy of the new chapter...
So, I'd really love it if you dropped a review for me and let me know what you think about the changes. Let me know if you still like Elizabeth (I think I made her a little bit more sarcastic in this version), what you thought of my Fury writing skills and if you'd like to see more!
(I'm still going to keep writing even if you tell me you hated it... Just so you know.)
Your friend,
Sam :)