It wasn't until we were back on the helicarrier did I feel a small weight lift from my shoulders. There was still a lot to do and the Tesseract's whereabouts was still unknown, but just knowing Loki was currently being placed in a secure jail cell was enough to ease some of the tension from my mind.
"Yeah, we got him," I said to Daniel. I had my phone wedged between my ear and shoulder as I collapsed my suit back down into a case and secured it in the weapons room. "But the object is still missing and I doubt this guy is going to talk."
"Wait, wait, wait, go back. You finally told your dad? About everything? Your job, the suit?"
"I didn't tell him so much as showed him. But yeah, he knows everything now." I sighed as I leant against a locker and slid down to the floor.
"How did he take it?" he asked.
"As you would expect. He's furious."
"Well at least it's all out in the open now. No more secrets."
"Yeah I guess. I have to go talk to him about it now. I doubt he's going to understand, or even listen to my reasons for doing what I've done. He's going to yell and then I'm going to yell."
"Then you need to make him listen. You're the only person who can make him understand your actions. You got me to understand and accept it."
"Yes, but you are a rational, sane person. And I didn't steal your designs for an 'iron' suit."
"You didn't steal anything. You helped him build his first suit when he came back from Afghanistan. That design is as much yours as it is his."
"Thanks but he's not going to see it that way." I sighed and leant my head back against the locker. "I miss you so much."
"I miss you too. Eating pizza in my pyjamas on the couch just isn't the same without you." I smiled as I pictured our usual Friday night's together. There was nothing I enjoyed more than just lying by his side and listening to his heartbeat. Until Daniel, I had never found anyone I could be so comfortable around without saying a word.
"I love you," I said sincerely.
"I love you more," he replied.
I ended the call and pushed myself to my feet. Dad was waiting for an explanation and it's about time I told him everything. I exited the weapons room and roamed the halls in search of dad. As I passed the lab and saw Dr Banner still working inside, I was tempted to join him. I resisted the urge and kept walking.
"Your dad wants to talk to you." I spun around to see Natasha walking towards me. "He's in the conference room around the corner."
"Thanks Nat."
"Good luck," she called out over her shoulder.
"I'm gunna need it," I muttered under my breath. I stood in front of the conference room door for a few minutes, trying to prepare a speech in my mind. It was useless, he was going to be pissed no matter what I said.
The last time I had been this nervous was 4 months ago on my very first mission.
What the fuck am I doing?
This was the only thought running through my head. I was way out of my league. It was one thing to train for mission and imagine doing them in my head. It was another thing entirely to actually be doing one. What if I fucked it up? Say or do the wrong thing and blow the entire mission?
I thought I'd gotten over my worries and concerns about S.H.I.E.L.D hiring me. They didn't make a mistake. They chose you. They wouldn't have put you out into the field if they thought you weren't ready for this.
I repeated these mantas in my head as my eyes scanned the crowded pub. It was a Friday night in London and the pub was bustling with people getting a drink after finishing work. I was perched on a stool at the end of the bar, trying to ignore the many lusting gazes I was receiving thanks to my revealing attire. I had to ball my hands into fists to stop myself from pulling up the neckline of the skin tight red dress I was wearing. I hated having to dress so provocatively but for this mission it was necessary.
The target hadn't arrived yet, but he would. Every Friday night he goes to this bar to drink.
"Relax Morgan. You look too tense," Natasha said, her voice coming through the tiny, undetectable piece in my ear. I locked eyes with her briefly across the room. She was sipping a vodka tonic at a table in the corner. "What did you tell your dad?"
I leant back in my chair and tried to relax slightly. "I told him Daniel and I were holidaying in Hawaii," I mumbled.
"He believed you?" She asked. "What if he asks for photos?"
"I'm a master at photoshop." My eyes were continually scanning the pub as we talked.
"What if he checks your card activity?" Coulson asked. He was located in a car across the street, monitoring everyone who entered the pub.
"Even if he can get past my security, he'll find a paper trail I created on my card. Flights, a hotel room, restaurant charges, thousands on shopping. Even a surfing lesson package."
Natasha chuckled. "Damn. That's impressive."
"That's why you hired me," I said with a slight smirk.
"Target is approaching the location," Coulson alerted us from the street.
My heart leapt up into my throat. This was it. We only had one shot at this.
"You can do this." Natasha's voice was strong and confident.
I just hoped she was right.
I pulled out my phone and put on a miserable expression as I scrolled through my texts.
"He's inside," Natasha said, her eyes tracking his movement from her position in the corner.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as he made his way to the bar. For a man in his late 40's, he wasn't too bad looking. He had short salt and pepper hair, a small amount of stubble on his face, and amazingly green eyes. Numerous women had stopped to stare at him as he had entered the pub.
My mission was to get his attention, something I thought might take some time but I could tell the minute he spotted me sitting at the end of the bar. He smoothed out his jacket and sauntered over to where I sat.
"I know this sounds like an incredibly cheesy one liner, but you are quiet easily the most beautiful woman in this place."
"I don't believe you, but thank you," I said in a British accent. I smiled to him but made sure the smile didn't reach my eyes.
He sat down on the empty stool next to me. "What is troubling a gorgeous girl like you?"
2 compliments in 30 seconds. Damn, he was really laying it on thick.
"My boyfriend, he…" I sniffled delicately. "He cheated on me."
He reached across to place a hand over mine on the bar. I looked up at him, tears shining in my eyes. "He is a fool to ever even think of cheating on a woman like you."
I wiped away a tear from my eye before gazing up at him. "I thought he was the one. I thought we would be together forever." I picked up my wineglass and quickly finished the glass. "I don't know what to do now."
"How about right now I buy you a drink, and you can figure the rest out later." As he smiled at me, his leg brushed up against mine under the bar. I nervously averted my gaze but nodded.
"That would be nice," I said.
We sat at the bar drinking and talking for over an hour. I have to admit, if I didn't know anything about this guy, he would seem very nice and genuine. But I knew everything about him.
A week ago S.H.I.E.L.D had gotten word of a man in London planning to sell designs for a concussive bomb. It was small enough to be able to fit in the palm of your hand but it would let out a sonic blast so powerful that it would kill anyone within a 2 mile radius. We had our suspicions of who it was but we had no evidence. All of the designs for the bomb were on paper and contact with potential buyers was done off the grid so there was no way we could hack into his systems to get the evidence we needed to put him away. S.H.I.E.L.D needed someone to go undercover to either get the designs or a confession. My first thought was that Natasha would be the one to go undercover. She had the most experience and I hadn't been on a mission yet.
But after searching through his internet history, it became clear he had a preference for very young blonde girls. So that's how I found myself sitting in a pub in London, flirting with a man who was more than twice my age and who had designed a weapon capable out taking out everyone on this block.
Over the course of an hour he became increasingly flirtatious, his hands running along my arms, his leg rubbing against mine. I played along, blushing at his advances but subtly encouraging them too.
Finally he invited me back to his apartment. I clutched his hand and leant on him as we walked through the streets. His hand was around my waist and kept wandering dangerously close to my ass. Even the thought of him touching me, let alone the actual act, made me want to throw up and take a shower. I snuggled in closer and buried most of my face into his chest as we walked so he couldn't see the grimace on my face.
Natasha was following us on foot, keeping at least 200 meters behind us while Coulson was even further away as he trailed us in the car.
My heart was pounding in my chest. Soon we would be completely alone in his apartment. What have I gotten myself into? I wanted to run away but as we entered the building and waited for the elevator, my feet wouldn't move.
He became even more handsy in the elevator as we whizzed towards the top floor. His hands were now freely roaming all over my backside while he practically attacked my face with his mouth. As soon as this was over I was going to scrub every inch of my body and gargle a whole bottle of mouthwash.
We stumbled out of the elevator and I took the opportunity to catch my breath as he fished out his keys and opened the door.
I momentarily forgot about everything as I stepped inside. His apartment was stunning. It was large, spacious and beautifully decorated. But it was the floor to ceiling glass windows showing the dazzling London skyline that was the most impressive feature.
"Your apartment is amazing," I said. He disappeared into the kitchen to grab some drinks. I wandered over to the windows and watched the people walking on the streets below.
I spun around as I heard him exiting the kitchen. He didn't have drinks in his hands. Instead he had a gun, which he raised and aimed straight at me.
"Did you really think I didn't know?" he said. "I knew they would send someone after me!"
I slowly raised my hands into the air. "What are you talking about? Please put the gun down." Fear and adrenaline were pumping through my veins.
"You're with them!" he screamed. He stalked towards me, keeping the barrel of the gun level with my face.
"Morgan I'm on my way," Natasha said, her voice coming through in puffs as she obviously sprinted towards our location. "Just keep him distracted until I get there!"
"Please," I said, my voice shaking in terror. "I'm not with anyone. I just want to go home." I kept my hands raised and ducked my head to avoid eye contact. I cowered in terror and played the part of the scared girl.
"You're lying!" he screeched. "I saw that red-headed bitch in the bar. She was following us!"
"I don't know what you're talking about." I choked back a sob as he stepped closer. I was hoping that he would buy into my lies of not having a clue but he was either smart or just paranoid.
He was now right in front of me, within reach. I needed to do something now, I couldn't wait for Natasha to come save me. I didn't have my gun on me. We'd decided it was too risky to stash one in my purse and since we'd assumed, correctly, that he would be all over me, we couldn't risk strapping one onto my body. I was going to have to take him down with just my hands. And if I failed, he'd shoot me. So, no pressure.
Before he could react, I swung my hand up and knocked the gun out of his hand. It went skidding across the floor and disappeared under his couch. His now empty hand was still outstretched so I grabbed it and twisted with one hand. My other hand swiftly and forcefully came down on his arm and a sickening crack could be heard as the bone broke. His scream echoed through the apartment.
A kick to the back of his knee sent him sprawling face first onto the floor. I placed my knee into the small of his back as I wretched his hands together behind his back. This elicited another scream as I pulled on his broken arm.
The door behind me burst open and Natasha raced into the room. She grinned as she took in the scene before her. "Nice job."
I shrugged. "It was easy. He's nothing without his gun."
Natasha handed me a pair of handcuffs which I quickly placed around his wrists. "Bet this isn't what you had in mind for tonight. Or maybe it was," I said as I tightened the cuffs around his wrist with a smirk.
After a quick search of his apartment we found a safe in his wardrobe. All it took was a little twisting of his arm, literally, to get the code. Inside we found both the plans for the bomb and the prototype he had been planning on selling. He then proceeded to confess to everything, even giving up the buyer.
"Fantastic job," Coulson said to me as we scanned over the plans. "You're going to do great at S.H.I.E.L.D."
That mission had gone so well and had given me the last bit of confirmation I'd needed to know I'd done the right thing by joining S.H.I.E.L.D. I need to remember that when I walk through those doors.
Rip the Band-Aid off. Just go in.
I opened the door and stepped inside. Dad was sitting at a small circular table by the window. He didn't say a word as I walked across the room and joined him at the table. That's how I knew he was really angry. I'd only ever seen him 'silent angry' one other time and that conversation had not been an easy one.
"Go ahead," I said.
"I don't even know where to start." He literally looked lost for words but I knew once I started talking he would certainly have a lot of things to say. "This whole time you've been working for S.H.I.E.L.D as an agent?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you freaked out when I first told you I was going to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. I knew you'd be furious if you knew I was training to be an agent so I just told you I was going to be a research analysist."
"So you're not a research analysist."
"I am. I've been conducting research on the Tesseract with Selvig when I haven't been away on missions." I knew as soon as the word came out of my mouth I'd made a mistake.
"Missions? You go away on missions?"
"Yes dad. Sometimes I go on missions for S.H.I.E.L.D."
I saw the wheels turning in his mind. "All those times you went away with Daniel, you were actually on missions weren't you?"
"…yes."
"Are you crazy Morgan? Are you trying to get yourself killed? You're lucky you haven't already!"
"It's not luck Dad! Do you honestly think they'd send me out into the field if I wasn't prepared for it? They've been training me from day 1. I can handle myself. Natasha trained me herself and she trusts me with her life."
The expression on dad's face clearly showed that he didn't believe me.
"See! That right there is why I never told you!" I yelled as I gestured to his face. "You still see me as 5 year old kid that needs her daddy's protection! I know I may only be 18 but I've grown up more than you realise. You just don't see it. Last month I single handedly took out an armed suspect in Moscow with my bare hands. And I know that scares you, but it excites me. It says I've done the job that I've been hired and trained to do. It shows me that I can help people by stopping bad people doing bad things. And isn't that exactly why you put on the Iron Man suit and fly around the world? Why are you allowed to go out there and risk your life to help people but I can't?"
"If something happens to you-" he began.
"And now you know how I feel." I said. "Ever since you made the suit and started putting your life in danger every day, I've been sick to my stomach with worry. I'm scared every time you fly away that I won't see you again. I hate feeling like that but I trust you, which is why I don't beg you not to go. I just wish you would give me the same trust."
"How am I supposed to trust you when you go behind my back and make a suit!" he retaliated. "Why did you make a suit? Did S.H.I.E.L.D ask you to?"
"Yes they did," I said. "Don't you remember dad? They wanted the Iron Man suit, just not you in it."
"So they want a teenage girl in it instead?"
"No, they want someone smart, mature and responsible. You are only one of those things."
"Well if they have you and your suit, why did they call me in now?"
"Because the consequences of what would happen if we fail are more important than personal conflicts and worrying about if you're responsible enough. And don't think S.H.I.E.L.D was the only reason I made my suit. I was planning on making my own long before S.H.I.E.L.D ever approached me."
"What? Why?"
"Why?! So I could protect myself."
"You don't need a suit for protection. I will protect you."
"I'm sorry, have you been paying attention recently?" I asked with sarcasm. "Because you've done a really shitting job of protecting me. You've been sprouting off that line ever since you made the suit and yet I've almost died twice in the past two years! I'm not blaming you for what happened to me but I can't always rely on you to be there for me in time. I don't want to have to rely on you. I want to be able to protect myself. After Obadiah and Ivan I wasn't just going to twiddle my thumbs and wait around for the next crazy guy to attack us."
Bringing up the attacks was a low blow as I could see the pain in his eyes when I mentioned them. He still blamed himself for every cut, bruise and broken bone I suffered. But I thought after Ivan's attack he might realise he couldn't always protect me.
"I don't sit around at night anymore worrying about what might happen when the next person who wants revenge on you comes along. I'm not jumping at every sound in the house or a car backfiring on the street. Having a suit of my own means I can defend and protect myself. Not only that, I can protect other people." I sighed and leant back against the chair. "And for the first time in a long time Dad, I'm really happy."
It seemed liked for the first time in the conversation, something I'd said had finally made an impact. 'I'm really happy'. Those three words seemed to deflate all of the anger out of him. He still obviously wasn't thrilled but knowing how happy I was seemed to make all the difference.
"You still did all of this behind my back," he said in a defeated voice.
"I know, and I hate that I did that but I felt like I couldn't talk to you. I didn't think you would understand."
"I'm trying to understand. It's going to take time."
"I know." I hadn't expected him to suddenly just be okay with everything with just one conversation. I knew it was going to take time. I was just relieved he was actually trying to come to terms with this and not just demanding that I give it all up.
"Morgan, I want you to be able to talk about anything with me." Hearing those words took me straight back to my childhood. He always used to tell me to talk about anything I wanted. At times I used to think he was overcompensating because I didn't have a mother to talk to. He wanted to make sure I knew I could talk to him about anything, even the girly stuff like periods and having fights with friends.
"I promise I will from now on," I replied emphatically.
He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Any other surprises I should know about?"
"Yeah, I'm pregnant." I swear I could hear his heart skip a beat as his eyebrows shot up. "Too soon for jokes?"
"Are you trying to give your old man a heart attack?" he asked facetiously.
I let out a huff of laughter. It felt good to be back to joking with him. We weren't back to normal yet but I knew we would get there. I felt the weight lift off of my shoulders and the sinking in my gut disappearing. But they quickly returned when he asked his next question.
"Morgan…I have to ask. Have you killed anyone?"
The ghost of the smile that had been on my face dropped instantly. I hated that he asked it but it was a reasonable question to ask. Working for an intelligence agency that deals with criminals, terrorists, and murderers on a daily basis unfortunately meant that deadly force sometimes had to be used.
"No, I haven't." Did he think I was capable of that? Did he think it was a decision I would have made lightly? "It's something I have been struggling with since joining S.H.I.E.L.D. I don't want to but I'm worried one day I'm going to be put in a position where I have to."
This was a conversation I'd had with Daniel multiple times. He'd pointed out there was a difference between cold blooded murder and self-defence but to me the end result was the same; a life was gone. I'd been fortunate enough so far in the field that all potentially deadly situations I'd managed to diffuse without using deadly force. But I knew one day that it wouldn't be enough. One day I'd have to kill someone to save myself or someone else. Would the knowledge that it was self-defence be enough? For me, I didn't think it would be. Regardless of the reasons, I'd still have someone else's blood on my hands and I knew that it would weigh heavily on me, potentially for the rest of my life.
"I've killed people," dad said. The first person he'd ever killed was in Afghanistan while being held hostage. It was something we never spoke about. "And even knowing that they were bad guys, it still takes its toll. It changes you and not for the better. I don't want to see it change you."
"I know you don't dad. But I can't promise it's never going to happen. If and when it does, I hope it doesn't change the way you see me."
He reached across the table to cover one of my hands with his own. "Nothing will change the way I see you." It was nice of him to say but I wondered if it was true.
The communication device on my wrist went off. I quickly checked the message.
"Natasha wants us on the bridge."
It seems to be the same few people leaving a review every chapter (which I appreciate).
It just makes me sad that I can see people are reading this story but not taking a few seconds to leave a review, even if it is just one sentence.If you are enjoying this story, if you want to see more of Morgan Stark in the future, please, please leave a review.
Often I think about giving up on these stories but when I go back and read the reviews, it convinces me to keep going.
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