Onwards!
August sat at a large circular table, wiping absently at the fingerprints on the glass. To her right, Claire was hunched over some kind of schematic with Coulson, arguing with him about an exit strategy. They had been sitting there for the better part of an hour, working through every last detail until August wanted to bang her head against the table out of sheer boredom. She had actually tried to listen and give input, giving up when she realized that both Claire and Coulson were going to be bullheaded about the whole thing. Now, she was just waiting for the call to action.
It came another hour later, while August was slowly drifting into a stupor and contemplating the merits of jumping through the plate glass window. Claire stood and stretched her spine, hands pressed to the small of her back. Coulson straightened his tie and pulled his cell from the pocket of his suit jacket. He spoke lowly for a few minutes while Claire organized the papers in front of her.
"I got him to agree to let us go alone," Claire murmured sotto voice.
August nodded, "How did you do that?"
With a little sassy turn of her chin, Claire answered, "I reminded him of how you slaughtered an entire prison's worth of demonic creatures without breaking a sweat. I figure we're covered."
Looking away, August considered that Amelia had knocked her down a few pegs during their last meeting. Her pride wouldn't allow her to voice the memory, thinking that with the addition of Claire to her arsenal they stood a much better chance.
"So we go in alone?"
Claire shook her head, "We'll have Coulson on the com, and a back up unit at the entrance. And we're carrying weapons."
August smiled sweetly, "Already picked mine out."
"I'm sure you did," Claire responded indulgently, turning as Coulson approached, "Are we all set up?"
"Yes," Coulson replied, tucking his phone away. "I need a day to bring in and prep the team."
Claire stood, "Good, I can wrap up a few things beforehand."
They looked at each other long enough that August began to feel uncomfortable, as if she were viewing the scene through a keyhole. Clearly, Claire loved Coulson very much and that love was reciprocated. Coulson made Claire sit down and focus when her mind went through a hundred different variations on a theme. Claire made Coulson drop his not insubstantial guard. This was the kind of relationship that would absolutely not be allowed by the Council, punished even. And August was glad that Claire, after having fought her whole life against darkness, could finally settle down a bit.
A call came through on the phone at the wall, Coulson holding the hand set to his ear for a moment. He raised a brow at August, a smirk forming on his mouth. August stepped warily closer.
"There's a visitor upstairs for you," Coulson said as he hung up the receiver. "In the lobby."
Frowning, August scratched her head and looked to Claire, who shrugged. "Okay then."
The lobby was a mass of glass and marble, staff in crisp suits and jackets milling about performing the everyday tasks of their jobs. August paid little mind to them, moving around the large half circle secretary's desk and craning her neck to get a look at the waiting room. There, sitting as comfortable as she could be, was Agnes. Her gray hair was piled atop her head in a matronly bun, her feet tapping a rhythm out on the floor.
August called out to her, eyes narrowed, "What are you doing here?"
Agnes' smile was bright, cheery. "You are such a hard person to track down."
"I know," August replied, taking the proffered bag from Agnes without really thinking the action through.
"I brought you cookies."
Glancing into the bag, August did indeed find a sack full of chocolate chip cookies. They weren't still warm from the oven, but they smelled amazing. She hugged the bag to her chest and thanked Agnes.
"Shew," Agnes demurred, "You should see what else I brought you."
August, thinking that this would be a far too public place to have any kind of conversation, guided Agnes to the elevator. She couldn't take Agnes to her apartment, bare and sterile as it was, and Steve's room was also out of the question. Stepping out into the expansive penthouse living room, August helped Agnes sit on one of the large, plush couches in from of the biggest television she had ever seen. Agnes shifted her hips happily before leaning down to haul her massive purse into her lap. She spent about five minutes pulling random objects out of it—a book, a pack of almonds, first aid kit, wallet, etc. Then, she reached down deep into the pit of it and pulled a large, thin, cloth wrapped object out.
Handing it to August, she explained, "I have a friend who is a dealer in ancient relics. I thought this might be helpful."
August gingerly unwrapped the object until she was holding a sparkling silver blade in her hands. She turned it over several times, thumb sliding along the sharpened edge.
"What is it?"
Agnes set her purse on the ground after having stuffed it once more with her belongings, "The actual name is lost to us, but my friend called it a Moon Blade."
August lifted a brow sardonically.
"Yes, I know," Agnes said with a sigh, "But, I've seen it in action and the name really does fit. It's supposed to be used by an Earth Mother, but I figure you have enough oomph to pull it off."
Holding it aloft, August asked, "What's an Earth Mother?"
Agnes smiled, "An ancient, immortal line of women that serve to heal and protect."
"That's definitely not me," August murmured, testing the weight of the small blade. "Definitely not."
"No," Agnes agreed. "It isn't. Earth Mothers generally only come into their power in time of great destruction and madness. The last one was about a millennia ago. And you, my dear, are a soldier and not a healer."
August shrugged, "We all have our strengths." Idly, she tipped the blade downward, "How do I use it?"
Laughing, Agnes answered, "The way you use any other weapon. The pointy end goes into the other person."
Chuckling, August replaced the blade into the cloth, setting it aside. She turned to face Agnes, who looked like she wasn't quite done sharing for the day.
"Why did you come here?"
Agnes' face dropped a little, "I received a visit from your little dark friend, Amelia. She was quite a fiery thing."
August flinched, wanting immediately to send Agnes and Mr. Jones into hiding. She honestly hadn't thought that Amelia would make an attempt on them as she had never shown a lot of partiality. They were, she thought, safe with her half a country away. But, there was something to be said for the logic of the insane.
"Oh don't look like that," Agnes chastised. "I was perfectly fine sending her on her way. Limping, I might add."
That was the thing about magic, it didn't matter how old you were, skill was skill and it didn't deteriorate over time. Rather, the opposite. Some of the most advanced spell workers were the oldest, magic building up over time. They could cultivate entire magical fields where anyone in the vicinity could feel their power, could be decimated by it. August hoped one day she could be that good.
Giving a light applause, August pulled a leg up and under her body, "What about Mr. Jones?"
"Oh, he's fine," Agnes answered with a dismissive wave, "I made a visit to his shop about a week ago and laid down some protective spells. Did you know that his books float?"
Smiling, August ducked her head, "Yeah. That started happening not long after I got there."
"You got a magic magnet attached to your signature, August," Agnes said sagely. "Any paranormal entity is going to be attracted to the places you frequent."
August glanced away, "Did he notice?"
"No," Agnes replied with a little shake of her head, the wrinkles around her mouth deepening as she formed the word. "But he is thinking that his memory is going a little—books disappearing an' all."
August nodded, "I'll have to send him a cobbler or somethin'."
"See that you do," Agnes asserted, the tone reminding her of her mother after birthdays when it was time to write out the thank you notes.
A silence fell between them, August working on something to say when Agnes reached back into her humongous bag and pulled out a hardback book.
"I believe you still have to finish this," she said, handing August the book.
August smiled a little, taking the thick weight into her hands and sliding her fingers along the top until she felt the break of the bookmark. She had stopped near the impending climax, a room full of diplomats stuck trapped with a viral infection spreading fast. Fear and panic were rising rapidly with every paragraph, the words slicing through the centers with ominous periods in between. August read without a lot of inflection, but Agnes didn't seem to mind. The older woman sat comfortably, her eyes turned downwards to her hands. August could tell that Agnes wished for their customary cup of tea to keep her busy while she listened, but the woman would settle for pretending to pick at invisible lint on her long knit skirt.
About an hour in, the lights above started to flicker spastically. August paused, looking upwards to the bulbs and wondering if there were experiencing a power surge from one of Stark's projects in the lab. The spasms stopped after a moment and August dismissed the thought, continuing with her reading. Not a moment later, the flickering started again and Agnes held up a hand to stop August.
"Something isn't right," Agnes breathed, standing.
Closing the book, August stood with her, sending out her senses to detect potential danger. She scanned their current floor, moving steadily downwards. Everything seemed to be in place, bodies moving through her consciousness and the occasional burst of electricity interrupting the magical fields. Beside her Agnes sniffed, her hands lifting, palms out, as if to taste the air.
"Can you smell that?" Agnes asked softly.
Knowing that Agnes had far more practice in detecting and defeating her enemies, August took a deep breath. There was nothing but the smell of liquor from the cabinet nearby and the smog that occasionally filtered through the air system. August said as much.
Agnes shook her head, "No, smell deeper."
Exasperated, August was about to ask how a person could 'smell deeper' when her nose caught something caustic. Immediately, she was on full alert, the scent bringing forth memories so forcefully that she had to close her eyes against the mental pictures.
"Jarvis," August called out, "Alert the Guardians and Shield staff that we have been infiltrated by darkness."
There was a faint beep that told her the message had been received and was being transmitted, and the August was turning to Agnes.
"We need to get you some place safe."
Agnes scoffed, "I'm old, not feeble, child. And I came prepared."
She leaned down and hauled up her bag, pulling out a large bundle of sticks woven together with what looked like ribbon and dryer lint. August eyed it suspiciously.
"Oh come now," Agnes chided, "Don't tell me you haven't seen a spell worker's wand before."
August's face was frozen in an expression of incredulity, "They weren't allowed in our training."
Agnes sighed, "That's a bunch of horse shit if I've ever heard it."
About to laugh, August was interrupted by Claire stalking in the room, the Potentials not far behind.
"What's happening? Who is this? Where is the darkness?"
August thought it would be best to answer in order, "Something is in the building, this is Agnes, and I'm pretty sure the darkness is in the air system."
Above, the lights flickered, this time cutting off with such finality that August could practically hear the maniacal laughter on the other side of the magic.
Agnes chuckled, "Been a long time since I've seen action."
Though the light of the afternoon was still present, the sun was in fact setting and August could tell that with darkness would come death. Claire folded her arms, "I don't believe we've been introduced properly."
"Claire, Agnes. Agnes, Claire," August offered. "Agnes is a spell worker, a pretty powerful one by my guess. Claire is our fearless leader." Quick and succinct, so that they could get down to the killing.
Agnes inclined her head, "Pleased to meet you, dear."
Claire looked dubious, but gave a polite nod. "Any idea what it is?"
August sighed deeply, "Smells like that shit we had down in the caverns at headquarters."
She could tell that Claire had to take a moment to process the fact that August was identifying it by scent and then applying her own memory to the thing that would be coming for them shortly.
"That's impossible," Claire declared, "We trapped it in the Other."
Shrugging, August replied, "Obviously not."
Shaking her head, Claire touched at the bun on the back of her head, "Do we think Amelia is involved?"
Agnes smiled widely, "Oh, Amelia is definitely involved. She and I had words not long ago. I think I may have hurt the poor girl's feelings."
All of this was said in a genial way that reminded August of the old biddies at the church, gossiping until the cows came home and ending every sentence with 'bless your heart'.
Claire's gaze narrowed, "You brought Amelia's wrath to us?"
Agnes, August could tell, would have taken offense if she weren't so ready to fight, "No. I believe our August brought Amelia along with her. I just didn't delay her arrival."
Claire's eyes cut to August and August stared her down, daring her mentor to blame her for the oncoming fight. She could see that Claire was annoyed, possibly even angry, but that there still existed that telltale sliver of guilt. August's mentor could take a lot of blame for the varied occurrences that happened in their lives, would take every bit of blood onto her own skin if it would save them all. August had no such qualms.
From the door, Camilla strode in, her tattoos uncovered and her combat gear in place. She glanced around the room quickly before turning to Claire. The potentials lined in behind her, wearing the trademark uniform of tank tops and cargo pants.
"What's the plan?" Camilla asked.
Claire thought for a moment, "Protection ring to start. August seems to think our little friend from the caves is back and from what I remember, this thing thrives in the dark. We just have to keep the lights on."
As if on cue, the sun started to descend past one of the towering buildings in the distance, casting a shadow over Camilla's face. Her jaw set and her pupils widened in the dim light.
"Alright," she called out to the Potentials. "You heard her. Protection circle, pronto."
Like little soldiers, Regina, Evan, Belinda, and Darcy were on the ground, drawing out glyphs. August cocked a hip and watched, aware that Claire was already taking off her suit jacket and setting her heels to the side.
Agnes cleared her throat, "If I may?"
Without waiting for an answer, she flicked the bundle of sticks in her hand and the whole floor lit up with glyphs, activating new and old until the marble shone like starlight. Claire watched from her position near the armchair, eyebrows lifted.
"Impressive."
Agnes demurred like any well brought up Southern Lady. "A little trick I learned as a school girl. Now, shall I do the whole building?"
Claire lifted her hands in an entreating gesture, "Be my guest."
Agnes made a few more motions, the building seeming to sway with the influx of magic. After a moment, she dropped the wand and looked at Claire expectedly.
"Now what?"
Claire seemed to be at a loss, her usual directives lying flat in her throat. "We wait, I guess."
Darcy stood from her kneeling position on the floor, pulling her hair into a high pony tail, "I can get Dios Verde to stop in—he's with his family right now but I'm sure he would be happy to back us up."
August waited not so patiently while Claire considered. Loki was far more of a wild card than August, herself, and she would bet that he would spend a good amount of their fighting time tripping her up and interrupting her work. She didn't like the prospect of having to defend against a powerful dark force and an immortal trickster god at the same time. It sounded exhausting.
Claire, finally, shook her head, "No, I think we can handle this for now. No need to open interplanetary wormholes."
Camilla stood with her hands on her hips, "I don't like this."
"I know," Claire answered in a soft voice, "Feels like we're stuck in that room with the Gate all over again."
"Except this time we have a multi-million dollar building and a whole population hanging out around us as collateral damage," Regina pointed out, acid in her tone.
"Yes," August bit out, "Thank you. It hadn't crossed our minds."
Regina sent her a nasty look, but refrained from engaging August any further. August surmised that the girl might still be smarting from the beat down she'd given her the last time they'd gotten into it. She couldn't say that she hadn't warned Regina. August didn't like to lose.
The tall boy, Evan, played idly with a little ball of magic in his palm, seeming to use it as a kind of totem to keep his nervousness at bay. Behind him, the little mouse, Belinda, huddled into the folds of an oversized sweatshirt. Even after a year of training they still looked so young and so unprepared to fight. August wondered if she, too, still looked young. There was a mirror across the way, but she couldn't quite be bothered to look into it—didn't quite want to see if what she was thinking was true.
Agnes once again cleared her throat, "Might I be of some assistance?"
Claire gave a gesture that read 'go ahead', her mouth twisted with exasperated resignation.
"Having seen Amelia's little beast—the dark mass, I mean," Agnes said, slowly and surely. "I believe I can recall where I've seen something similar. We had something like it when I was a teenager. It oozed through the night, taking people as it went. People just… died in its wake. Their bodies would disappear along with the morning sun. It didn't just take anyone. It seemed to target whole families, entire generations of a bloodline gone in a night."
From behind Evan, Belinda's head popped up, her cool skin almost glowing in the sunset. "Did it smell like burning skin?"
Agnes smiled, "Ah, yes. I seem to remember that being the general description."
Rushing to the nearest drop down computer, Belinda started rapidly tapping at it, working through several menus until she found what she was looking for.
"I didn't think about it," she seemed to chastise herself. "I didn't think."
The mantra was repeated several times until she'd enlarged a file and highlighted a paragraph. Turning, she fiddled with her hands, voice coming out meek.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't make the connection," she announced, wincing at the building creaked against the first tests of the protective circle.
Claire, in a tone August hadn't heard come out of the woman's mouth since August had first been taken from her parents, urged, "It's ok. Just tell us what you found."
Belinda hesitated, taking an unneeded breath before pointing at the screen, "I catalogued something in the books from one of the back logs when I first was assigned to the records room. I remember it because I was so confused about the whole thing. The file describes a dark, amorphous mass that absorbs life from anyone it comes into contact with. The file also said that it could be controlled, could be willed to seek people out specifically."
Camilla moved forward, "Did the file say how to stop it."
Belinda paused for so long that, had August known better, she would have said that Belinda was working towards melodrama. "It did."
"And?" Darcy barked out, one wrist rolling outwards impatiently.
Belinda swallowed, "Blood magic. The spell caster controls it with their blood, but a more powerful bloodline can override the original contract."
Claire smiled at Belinda, "Good work. Did the file happen to say how to override the contract?"
August had already moved to the computer screen, reading ahead. She smirked, "Oh, you know, the usual. Blood sacrifice."
A collective intake of air could be heard behind her and August turned to see Claire rubbing at the bridge of her nose, Camilla's eyes cast to the ceiling, Agnes grinning like a loon, and the others aghast in horror.
"Oh like you've never done a blood ritual before," August taunted lightly.
"They haven't," Claire defended carefully. "I can't teach them that sort of thing. I don't have the power."
"Neither do I," Camilla commented, resigned.
August smiled, "I do."
"And I," Agnes added. "Have more experience than August. It was the way of my people before the chaos of the magical wars to bind to one another using blood rituals."
The mention of war caught Claire's attention, "You experienced the magic wars?"
"Oh yes," Agnes replied. "I was young. Too young to really know what was happening."
"Those were centuries ago," Camilla intoned, awe in her voice.
Agnes smiled as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "Magic, dearie. Blood magic."
"So blood magic makes you immortal?" Evan asked, skepticism clear in his tone.
Shaking her head, Agnes clarified, "Oh no. It just delays death a little while."
"A long while," Regina muttered beneath her breath. August only spared a moment to ponder on what that girl got up to in her reading that she knew anything about blood magic's properties.
Agnes ignored the commentary, "So, is there a kitchen on this floor?"
They piled into the state of the art kitchen, lighting a few candles as there were no windows in the room, where Agnes proceeded to make a veritable mess of the countertops, pulling out spice and herbs, unwrapping little parcels stored in her bag and laying out haphazardly the things she would need for her work. August watched with abject fascination, wondering just how deep her purse went and how much she was going to improvise for the things they simply didn't have time to acquire. Around her, the others waited in tense silence, Claire most of all unsure of what was going to happen. Their leader did not do particularly well when she wasn't in complete control of the situation.
"Now," Agnes sighed, "Who wants to start?"
"Excuse me?" Camilla said shortly.
Agnes looked like she wanted to roll her eyes, but explained with infinite patience, "We're going to do some serious spell work in just a moment. We need to make a temporary blood contract to bind our powers together. It will be the only way to collectively call off the, forgive the term, big bad wolf."
The building rattled, glyphs flaring to life in response. They bathed the room in a soft, ominous glow that had August working her jaw to keep her magic inside. It rumbled, unwilling to stay dormant in the wake of danger.
Claire pressed her palms to the counter next to a pile of sage, "What would be involved?"
Agnes nodded, "Good girl. Asking questions. I assume you've had a basic training in blood magic, so I will skip to the meat of it. I will gather our bloodlines together and cast it out to the darkness, thereby attracting it to our combined power. Then, we will all chant to bring it into our power, giving it over to the strongest of us."
Camilla ventured, "Who is the strongest?"
Agnes' eyes flicked to August and it took some work to keep the preening smile off August's face.
Claire balked, "I don't think that's a good idea. I can take it."
"You most certainly cannot," Agnes replied with a light chuckle. "Too stuck in your ways to handle blood magic. We need August to ingest it. She can carry it to the resting place."
"What the hell is a resting place?" Regina asked, growing more uncomfortable by the second. She kept pulling at the waistband of her cargos where they were a tad too loose.
Claire held up a hand, as if to remind Regina that they were with polite company, "It's an altar placed at the intersection between worlds. That's where it will be safest—the hardest to recapture."
August smirked, "And we know just where to go for that, don't we?"
Cursing in a whisper, Claire steeled herself and squared her shoulders, "Let's go."
"Excellent," Agnes said, slipped a small paring knife from the drawer. "Just a drop or two will do. No need for a big gesture."
The knife went round, Claire cleaning it in between. August had no trouble making the little incision in her fingertip, but when she handed the knife to Belinda, she could see that the girl was ashen. Evan had to coax her into letting him help and she barely allowed that, her mouth turned down at the sight of blood. August watched Agnes watching Belinda very carefully, filing the interest for a conversation later.
When the little bowl had received each of their bloodlines, Agnes looked at them gravely. "We're going to have to take down the shields and let the darkness in this room."
August nodded, seeing the others resolve themselves to facing the inky black mass once more. Agnes checked that they were all ready, magic freely flowing between the group. It moved with surprising ease between their magical signatures, gaining power and growing into a physical thing around them, a mist of protection and strength. Agnes removed the protective circle.
Immediately, the smell of death and darkness filled the air, amassing in a high corner of the room and growing like a storm cloud overhead. Agnes worked quickly, holding the bowl in front of her and giving a soft command. As if pulled by an invisible rope, the mass dropped from the ceiling and inched closer to the bowl. When it was in striking distance, Agnes tossed the blood onto it, coating the outside edges. August thought she could hear a muffled high pitched scream in the background of the scorching noise from the darkness. It reared back, apparently horrified.
Agnes stepped back and grabbed Camilla's hand. Camilla took Claire's hand, Claire took August's, August took Belinda's, and so forth until they had formed a circle.
"Follow me," Agnes called out as wind picked up in the room, tossing ingredients, pots and pans all over.
A chant filled the air, something ancient and foreign. August heard the syllables, working to sound them out as the wind took her very breath from her lungs. The darkness was pulled into their center, above the steel counter top. From across the way, Agnes caught August's eye, nodding towards the Moon Blade sitting in front of her. She hadn't seen Agnes grab it, had even forgotten it existed in the moments between reading and exorcising the darkness.
"One more sacrifice," Agnes yelled over the roar, her gray hair flying out unnaturally. "Bring it to you."
Releasing the hands she held, August grabbed the Moon Blade and dug it into her palm. The mass before her reacted viscerally, diving at her. She flinched, closing her eyes and preparing to be tackled to the ground and possible killed. Instead, the room quieted almost immediately, the wind falling to nothingness and the lights flipping back on. August peeked out.
The whole group stared at her as if she were alien to them. She touched her face, wondering if she now carried a scar by holding the darkness within her. It writhed a little, encased almost completely by her magical core and held still. Somehow, August knew that it wouldn't remain complacent for long, that it would pick at her weaknesses until she cracked like so much glass.
Claire reached over and touched her, "Are you okay?"
"I'm always okay," August replied as if by habit. "Its inside."
Agnes circled the counter, "I can give you some tea to keep it down easier. Would you like that?"
She sounded like August's mother and for some reason it made her want to cry. Stubbornly, she held it back.
"Yeah," August croaked. "I'd like that."
Darcy pushed her glasses up on her nose, "So, about that altar thing."
Claire immediately flew into action, "We leave tomorrow morning. It will be a three hour plane ride and an hour in the car before we reach it, but we'll be ready to leave before dawn."
August nodded, listing a little to the side. Everything seemed to be viewed through a film now, as if the lens of her world were covered in Vaseline. She sat heavily down on one of the chairs, feeling the immense turmoil of her consciousness fall to the wayside for the first time in her memory. Before long, Agnes was handing her a cup of tea brewed from some kind of concoction of herbs. August sipped at it, not a single thought flying through her head.
Agnes made her drink three cups of the stuff, August's mind coming back to her in little increments. She finally noticed that they were all still sitting there, waiting for her to do something. Suddenly, August was a zoo animal on display, peered at from behind the fence.
"I think I need to get some sleep," August said, standing carefully.
"Yes," Claire agreed. "Belinda, will you take her to her room. I'll get… Agnes settled."
Agnes made a soft psssh sound, "No need. I have a bus to catch."
August looked at her, "That's it?"
Tilting her head to the side, tucking the Moon Blade into August's hands, Agnes replied, "That's all you needed."
The ride up the elevator was a little bit of a blur, but August managed to make her way to her apartment without leaning too heavily on Belinda for support. The thing inside her was pulling all sorts of energy from her, draining away her strength. Belinda helped into bed, waiting patiently while August made a few attempts to get her shoes off.
After the fifth try, Belinda sighed and reached down, taking the Moon Blade from her, probably to set it aside. The thing flared, glowing an orchid color that ran all the way up Belinda's arm. August looked at it as if it were a dream, knowing that she wouldn't remember in the morning. With a blush, Belinda set the blade on the nightstand and slid off August's shoes, pulling the blankets up to her chin.
August couldn't resist, as Belinda turned off the lights and tip toed out of the room, calling out, "Good night, Mouse."
The night passed in a hurry, August waking to Claire pushing at her shoulder before she was entirely ready to wake. She didn't bother showering, pulling on a pair of cargos and a tank top—old habits die hard—and preparing to fight. The darkness seemed to have receded, whether it was the tea or a good night's rest, August didn't know. She was grateful that she had strength that day, could see clearly, and had an appetite to rival a horse.
On her third breakfast burrito, August waltzed out into halls, heading for the elevator. It was a testament to her diminished sense that she didn't hear Steve approaching until he was almost upon her.
"Morning," she said.
He looked angry, almost furious. "We're supposed to be partners."
"I agree," August said, biting into the tortilla.
If possible, Steve's expression grew even angrier, "Then why are you leaving me out of this mission?"
Her brows drew together, "The altar thing? It's just a delivery."
"Of an enemy that is inside you," he growled, maneuvering her into a niche in the hall. "Coulson showed me the video feed."
"Oh," August replied, the burrito halting mid air. "I knew there was something I was forgetting."
"Yes," his voice scraped out, "that."
She sighed and touched one palm to his cheek, rising onto her very tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek, "I thought you would be glad. We're almost done with this."
Steve visibly fought to keep his expression stormy, "We're supposed to be doing this together."
"Right," August agreed again, "I didn't have time to consult you last night. It was kind of do or die in there."
He grasped her hips, "I know, but you could have told me after."
"When I was passing out?" August shot back without any bite. "The whole process knocked me clean off my feet. Wasn't able to think or nothin'."
She could feel his warmth seeping into her, could feel that his tension was slowly ebbing away. "I'm going with you today."
"I'm game," August chirped, taking another bite of her burrito. The cheese had melted into the eggs and sausage, turning what should be a clumpy mess into a rich, mouth watering experience.
Steve looked down at her with suspicion in his eyes, "You're agreeing with me."
"Yes."
He blinked, "I thought we agreed that agreeing too often would be creating a pattern."
She smiled, "I'll make an exception. Just for today, given the extenuating circumstances."
Steve looked at her for a long second, assessing her body, "Is it really inside you?"
"Lord," August muttered, "Like a parasite." She paused, "I hope this isn't what pregnancy feels like."
A soft chuckle sound at her ear as he pulled her into a hug, "Only if your child is the spawn of hell."
"There goes my invitation to the Black Mass," August joked, letting him lead her to the elevator.
They rode all the way to the roof where Stark's plane was ready for takeoff. A whole host of armed and guards was standing at the ready. Claire, in full Council regulated battle wear stood next to Coulson, who was holding Cap's shield. They headed east while August had a fourth burrito.
So, there's only one more chapter left in this story and I feel like August has come a really long way. She's got one final test before she's in the clear, so to speak. Happy Reading, everyone!
CA