Author's Note: Thanks for reading this! I hope you like it! It means a lot to me! I'm just trying out this style, like I mentioned in my Prologue A/N, so sorry if it's a little bit weird. Enjoy! I had way too much fun writing the end of this chapter, but... spoilers! I'm putting this up a couple hours early 'cause there's no way I'll have time later. Hope you have a fun weekend!


I sat in the desk chair quickly, my dark eyes trained intensely on the computer screen in front of me. Scarred, strong, fingers with heavily bitten nails typed furiously at the keyboard. I flicked an annoying chunk of hair out of my face. Lines upon lines of code scrolled over my vision. But this was easy. Child's play. I once hacked the cable network of Stark Tower and got one of the channels to play "My Little Pony" for a solid seventy-two hours before the great genius Tony Stark could get it working properly again. Of course, the stupid SHIELD agency had come after me, but I was good, and I hid. They knew my name, but they didn't know my story. They didn't know who I was. They didn't know my background. And that was just fine with me.

"Come on, come on," I whispered. This was something that was supposed to be simple—and it was. Horrifically simple. But the computer was slow. I tapped my foot and began to glance nervously around the room, eyes never stopping. Stupid pranks were my best trait, and I always left behind my little symbol. A little QBR in the corner of a screen. No one except SHIELD knew what those letters even meant.

Quincy B. Robinson, pleased to make your acquaintance. I'd shake your hand, but there's a computer—or Smartphone or iPod—screen and a bunch of words in the way.

Celebrities were horrendously overrated. There was a reason I hacked Stark Tower's cable network. Sometimes they needed to be dragged off their high horses and shoved firmly back into reality with a boot kicking their back. I had a peculiar sense of justice—and I knew that—but pranks helped ease their fall.

Something creaked from somewhere behind me. I muttered a choice word under my breath. I knew when people were coming for me. I had a timer on my phone displaying how many minutes I had until I was caught. Glancing down, I saw about five of the fifteen were left. Right as I heard the first footstep, I saw what I was hoping to see. "Disney songs on rerun—activated and successful." I closed out of the window right as a man in a crisp suit sat in the chair next to me. He had thin hair, light brown, and blue eyes. There was something exasperated in his face. "Quincy Robinson?" he asked. I raised my eyebrows. He was SHIELD then.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

"My name is Agent Phil Coulson. I work with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division."

SHIELD. Called it. Wasn't I good? Like a modern Sherlock Holmes.

"I kinda figured you were," I remarked, sarcasm rolling off of me in waves.

"There's a fortress the Avengers can't gain access to. Do you think you'd be willing to help out?"

"If SHIELD stops trying to follow me and I get my slate wiped clean," I replied, turning the timer off on my phone and opening Flappy Bird. I hated the stupid game, but it was a great way to appear uninterested in whatever anyone was saying to me. Coulson looked thoughtful.

"Deal."


I walked into the SHIELD headquarters that I think someone mentioned was called the Triskellion. There was a hugely skeptical look on my face. I adjusted my duffel bag on my shoulder and looked around. Everyone around me looked so… crisp. Just like Coulson.

The elevator was fast. I felt my stomach swoop as it started to ascend about forty floors. "The conference room is the second door on the right," Coulson said to me. "So you don't look like you're completely lost when you pass the windows. Mr. Stark would never let you hear the end of it if you did." I felt my hand grip my bag strap tighter. What was this government shmuck doing? Trying to make me feel welcome? Trying to annoy the living daylights out of me? Whichever one it was, it wasn't working. I had kept a tight lid on any and all emotions since I was thirteen years old. There was no way I was breaking that now.

There came a soft ding and I swept out of the closed space into a hall. I marched right down it to the second door on the right that had windows with blinds looking out to me. All of the famous, legendary Avengers were sitting around a table. I observed them silently before they saw me.

Tony Stark was looking just as crisp as the SHIELD agents. His hair was neatly done, and his suit looked expensive. Bruce Banner was a little more care-worn, wearing no tie, with his hair tousled like he'd rolled out of bed two minutes ago. It was seven in the morning, so maybe he had. Natasha Romanoff looked like she was only half paying attention to what was going on. She was wearing skinny jeans and a sweater. Clint Barton sat on her right side, in jeans and T-shirt, looking edgy and a little angsty. Thor, the demigod-dude, was in his Asgardian armor, looking thoroughly confused by our strange Earth customs. Steve Rogers shared a similar expression, but a little less confused. He looked like he had come straight from the 1940s, by his outfit. Leather jacket, slacks, button-up plaid casual shirt. I snorted at all of their looks.

Phil Coulson brushed his hand out in a sweeping gesture, indicating I should enter the conference room. I shrugged, handed him my bag, pushed some hair out of my face, and threw open the door. Tony Stark looked at me with a ton of skepticism.

"Who are you supposed to be?" he demanded. I raised one of my eyebrows.

"I'm the one that made your TV play My Little Pony for three days straight," I snapped, deciding right then I could outdo him.

"That was you?" he asked incredulously.

"Yup," I replied, satisfaction gleaming over my eyes.

"Who are you?"

"Quincy B. Robinson," I retorted.

"But… you're a girl!"


End Note: Please tell me what you thought. Just try and be understanding. And no swearing, please. I keep swearing out of my stories because I believe things sound better without it, so if you take the effort to choose a cleaner word, I'll think you're just that much more fantastic!

To "Shieldmaiden of Rohan": Thanks for the review! You're awesome! Glad you liked it! To "sass-mistress-lucifer": Don't worry, Quincy isn't over-powered with a tragic backstory and a cheesy love triangle. This one won't have romance. At all. Not this story. It would be more realistic if I knew anything about computers (all I can do is type stories...) so I'm not quite sure how well that'll go. But thanks for the review!

Thanks!

~Cass