PRESENT DAY
A tall brunette woman lay in her SHIELD issued cot aboard the helicarrier, in a relatively peaceful slumber. It was 3:04 in the morning, and she had collapsed into bed about an hour ago, eternally grateful for the solace that her uncomfortable mattress and scratchy sheets gave her. It used to annoy her, but she soon felt that the way-too-starched sheets had a sense of home to them. Not to say that she belonged – because she doubted she would ever actually know what that felt like – but just a sort of cosy home-like feeling. But that was probably because she hadn't seen her actual home for over a year.
She had been made an agent of SHIELD 3 months ago, an occasion she would have celebrated with friends if she had friends. Or at the very least, friends with security clearance. As it was, she ended up sharing a bottle of some really strong vodka with a bunch of other agents that passed the test. The alcohol was nice but the agents were real assholes when they thought she couldn't hear what they were saying.
Her best friend was jet-setting around the world with her boss, and when she wasn't with her boss she was with her hot-shot British boy-toy. Isabeau called him a 'boyfriend', but Mel knew a boy-toy when she saw one.
She'd had a few of her own over the years, after all.
What's new pussycat? WOAH-OH-OH-OH!
Speak of the devil.
What's new pussycat? WOAH-OH-OH-OH!
The only person with that obnoxious ringtone was Isabeau, as to warn Mel from answering the call with something stupid like 'Agent Lachly of SHIELD, what the fuck d'you want?'.
What's new pussycat? WOAH-OH-OH-OH!
Mel stirred slightly, the pleasing tones, yet annoying lyrics of Tom Jones finally reaching her ears. She could tolerate the chorus of the song, and generally people ended the call before that point, but obviously Isabeau was determined to get Mel's attention.
Pussycat, pussycat, I love you. Yes I do –
"Don't you dare!" she snarled and lunged for her cellphone on the bedside table. There was a lot of desperate grabbing and phone flipping as she attempted to answer it before Tom Jones drove her insane.
"It's 3 in the fucking morning, what the fuck d'you want?" she snapped, knowing full well that Iz would take it all in her stride.
"Well good morning to you too, bitch. Is that anyway to talk to your best friend?" she laughed in reply, completely used to Mel's antics.
"Well I would have spoken to you early but I'd hate to interrupt playtime with your boy-toy," Mel replied, trying to keep the petulant hurt out of her voice.
"First of all – boyfriend – second of all – we do not have sex that much and you know it." Izzy seemed completely oblivious.
"Well how would I know, you moved in with him the second Pepper gave you that promotion."
Maybe she couldn't keep the petulant hurt out of her voice.
"That's only because you ran away to go find yourself when Tony fired you."
"Tony did not fire me, I quit. Don't make up shit now."
"You're telling me not to make up shit, are you serious?"
"What did you want Isabeau?" Mel groused, sounding as much as a petulant sleep-deprived child as she could. The only way to stop their fights from starting was with humour. And Mel was way too tired to fight.
"Well, friend, I just called to say that I'm going to Germany!" Isabeau squealed. She liked to travel, and opportunity to do say got her all excited.
"Is Pepper doing something there?" Mel asked quickly. Coulson hadn't told her anything about Pepper going to Germany, or Tony for that matter.
She was sentimental, she liked to keep tabs on them.
"No, silly goose," Silly goose? Oh god, "Ben's been over there doing this story on this scientist dude and there's going to be this ball and he invited me to go with him. It's going to be great."
Mel was still concerned. She knew 'what you don't know won't hurt you' but somehow she didn't think it was the case in this situation. The bitch of it all though was that Isabeau had no clearance. If she did Mel could tell her everything and they could be proper friends again instead of this weird long-distance thing going on.
"Oh, that's great. Does he own a castle with a sex dungeon in it?" Mel said when she realised she had been quiet for too long.
"You make it really hard to talk to you when all you do is talk about my sex-life," Iz deadpanned.
"So you don't deny it!" was the over-dramatic reply.
"Right, you've not slept enough, but I'll call you when I'm in Stuttgart. Good night, Mel," Iz said, but laughed a little when she ended the call.
Mel turned onto her back, to stare at the ceiling, cellphone still in hand.
What was Agent Smith doing in Germany?
She wanted to go call in a few favours, but somebody called her first.
"Agent Lachly, are you presentable?" the P.A. buzzed overhead suddenly loud and even more obnoxious than her ringtone. Even with the unusual static to it, she could recognise those honey tones anywhere.
"As long as presentable doesn't include needing a shower, Agent Coulson."
"You have ten minutes, meet me on the runway. We'll brief you on the plane."
And that was all she wrote.
xxxXXXXXxxxXx
"And is Malibu everything you hoped for, Isabeau, dearest?" Mel asked, with as much sarcasm as she could manage whilst cleaning a clogged toilet.
"Lest we forget, Melody dearest, that this was your idea," Isabeau snapped back as she scrubbed dried up vomit from the floor.
"We needed a job, and this was all that was available. I know the job you really wanted, and this is just motivation to go and get it."
"Scrub toilets or apply for a job working for Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. Yeah, I think I'd rather scrub toilets than embarrass myself in front of Tony fucking Stark and Pepper Potts," she huffed angrily. She needed the anger. If she didn't have it she would have added to the layer of vomit, compliments of her squeamish stomach.
"You could wear an earpiece so I could be there with you, and also see if they need another house maid or cleaner or mechanic or something. You know, so that I'm not the only one still cleaning up shit from other people."
"An earpiece?" Izzy sneered, far too frustrated to do anything else, "What are we, X-men?"
"Okay, we agreed never to bring that up again. Do you remember when we agreed? Because I remember. I think we made that deal right after you blew up their superjet thing."
"We thought it was a school, how was I supposed to know there more flammable things in there other than a couple of lightbulbs and cleaning chemicals? And what about you, wildcat? You're the one who bit the Beast in the-."
"Yes, well that was because I was trying to cause a distraction whilst you hightailed away from the big burning plane!"
"And how exactly did distracting Beast lead to fucking Beast?"
"There was some kind of experimental substance involved – you blew up a plane!"
Any further argument was ended abruptly when short, bald man ran into the bathroom and proceeded to give the pair an impressive show of projectile vomiting, missing the toilet seat entirely, and landing it squarely on top of Isabeau's head.
"Sorry," the man gurgled out, almost unintelligible, before crawling over to a stall and passing out.
Mel looked over at her best friend and vomit soaked hair with her hands clasped over her mouth to stop her from retching or laughing or both.
"Maybe a new job would be nice."
XXXxxxxXXxxX
Isabeau smiled in spite of herself at the memory. The vomit itself wasn't that hard to get out of her hair as one might expect. Mel never shut up about it for at least a year. She even told Tony about for some unknown reason. Unforgiveable. Tony was able to find the security footage too, which unfortunately lead to the whole tale of how she managed to bed the Beast. Or at least the parts that Mel remembered. Tony was not willing enough to search for that kind of video footage.
"I don't think I'm ready for that level of kinky, Melody," Tony said with a sly grin.
"Call me 'Melody' one more time and will scar you for life, Stark," was her quick, idle threat.
She was lying in bed, wide awake at 3 in the morning. Normally she would be asleep, making sure she had at least 8 hours for work the next day, but the call from Ben was the first kind of communication she'd had with him in over a week. She'd thought they had broken up with his sudden up-and-vanish-with-no-explanation routine. She also knew that she shouldn't be so quick to agree to see him again, but it was a free flight to Germany and back and she could give him a piece of her mind in person.
Well, probably not. As much as she wanted to be angry with him, she knew that she'd mellow out the second she saw him. Or at least she would try to mellow out. Anger was never really her strong suit. Panic and paranoia came easily to her, so at least she had that.
She spent the next 3 hours cleaning her tiny apartment, often having to go to extensive lengths to find some to clean. She was more than aware that she had a considerable amount of dust sticking to her in odd places that she was still trying to wipe off as she walked into Stark Industries to work for her boss – the CEO of said company – Pepper Potts.
XXXxxXxXXXxxxXx
"You know most of the girls that come here are looking for a shot at the great Tony Stark," a red headed woman said politely. She may have been polite, but the insult was quite clear to Isabeau's ears.
"Well you wouldn't have to worry about me, Miss Potts, I'm not like those girls at all," she replied, giggling nervously. She panicked at her wording, which is what caused her sudden verbal diarrhoea.
"Not to say that I'm not like most girls. Like I am similar to them, of course, we're all normal, but – well not normal, just average – Not that I'm saying you're average, because you're not you know, you're extraordinary and I'm just so honoured – not to say Tony Stark isn't great – because he is, I'm sure – ." She couldn't stop even if she wanted to. She had clasp her hands over her mouth just to stop from talking.
"I can see you're a little nervous, Miss Asmundor, you can take a moment to catch your breath if you need to," Pepper placated. She looked at the nervous wreck and felt disappointed.
Her attire, at first, seemed bland and simple – but Pepper liked bland and simple. Bland and simple and neutral and nothing that Tony was interested in. Her nerves, though, were getting the better of her and when working anywhere near Tony Stark one had to have nerves of steel.
"Thank you. I just meant that I'm not here for Tony Stark or anything he's associated with. I mean, I'm sure it would look great on my resume, but I am here because you are just such an inspiration to me, Miss Potts. I just look up to you, not because you're Anthony Stark's assistant, but because you are able to keep that crazy man grounded somehow and keeping crazy people grounded is really my life's mission," Izzy said slowly, trying not to sound over the top, and added, "or just one crazy person, but who's counting?"
Pepper smirked at that. Whilst she was used to flattery, she could tell that this girl was more genuine than anyone else who had applied for the job.
"Well, I have had years of experience," Pepper acquiesced, "and I'd be more than happy to pass my wisdom on, if that's what you wish?"
Isabeau had to stop herself from nodding eagerly. She went for just smiling and nodding once, not trusting her voice.
"I have some other applicants to look at, but if you have the job, I will call you and let you know within the week."
XXXxxxxXXxxX
"Isabeau! Wonderful! Just in time, I need you to call ahead and double check the time of the Detroit flight later this week. It is of the upmost importance that we get there on time."
And there she was. Pepper Potts on a roll. It was magnificent to look at really, but Isabeau couldn't admire for long, as she raced after her boss.
"Oh, and you have that trip to Germany you were telling me about! We need to incorporate that in as well. You're leaving tonight aren't you?" Pepper said without stopping her movement. She was tapping ceaselessly at her StarkPad and Isabeau could barely get a word in edge wise.
"Yes! I'm going to see my boyfriend," she said quickly, "You remember him, don't you?"
"Oh yes," the red head replied stopping suddenly, "I remember. Benedict Smith."