AN - Well, this is done. I did not like this chapter :P Maria Hill isn't one of my favorite characters and I more did this just to have another chapter out here for experience. Definitely not my best work, and I kind of went 'whatever' towards the end but oh well. I had absolutely ZERO inspiration or motivation for this.
Good thing this isn't my usual quality.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing!
Contains SLASH, MALE RELATIONSHIPS, you should know that by now... I'm happy though - I've gotten no hate messages about slash! Yay!
God, sometimes Maria Hill hated the Helicarrier. It was a nightmare for security – while few people could get on easily, all it took was one ill-meaning person in an unfortunate location to blow the whole thing sky high, and then as a consequence into the vast ocean below. She tried not to let it bother her because it was her 'office' more often than not (Director Fury was fond of this toy in particular to they were always using it) but the knowledge that one trespasser and a few cut wires could send her to flaming oblivion made her twitch.
So it was understandable that she was slightly paranoid about security while on the massive vehicle. She had a legitimate reason to panic – like now.
"You." She grabbed the agent on monitor duty by the shoulder and stared harshly at the screens in front of her. "Who is that?"
The man choked on his cheese-and-ham sandwich in surprise but dutifully swallowed his mouthful and brought up the view that the lady secretary was focusing on. "Um, an agent? Or a guest?" He said, eyes on the man portrayed on screen. He had black hair and bright green eyes, and seemed to be sitting in one of the break rooms. Despite the room's name, it was more of an empty space with a few hard chairs and a measly stack of magazines on a table nearby, one of which the man in question was flipping through. He had a highly disinterested look on his face, and the agent was hard-pressed not to copy it as he zoomed in on the tag clipped to the man's shirt collar. "See, ma'am?" He said, the very-legitimate looking guest tag filling the screen.
"Shut up," Maria told him, eyes narrowing. The guest tag was per protocol, but it was missing something – the ID code that ran along the bottom of all guest tags. It was so that they could search up the numbers and find the person's profile in SHIELD's database – or if it was a faked tag, the lack of a proper match of profiles. However this man had no such thing; there was just a series of lines to take up the space of the ID code.
And if that wasn't suspicious, then Maria Hill didn't know what was.
Knocking the upstart agent over the head, Maria Hill scowled at him and turned to leave the bridge. "You, watch the screens. I want you to keep an eye on him and anything else that's out of place – and look out for any damage reports. If a wire is burnt out or there's a dent by an engine, I want to know immediately." Leaving the man sweating, she hurried towards the break room where the man was. As she moved at a speed that was urgent but still dignified, she thought over anything that may give cause for a guest to be on the Helicarrier. There was a showing for some foreign dignitaries to convince them to give SHIELD an in to their governments, but that wasn't until tomorrow, and the last guest to come aboard had been that Bulgarian ex-black ops that Director Fury had conned into joining a week ago. There was no appointment or event today – so what was that man doing here?
She came to a stop at the break room and took a moment to peek through the window set into the door. The man was in the same spot as earlier, though he'd seemed to have changed from a Sports Illustrated to a People, and looked scandalised at whatever he was reading. As soon as her eyes fell on him, his eyebrow twitched and his eyes darted up to the glass as if he knew she was there. Which shouldn't possible, because the glass was tinted on that side and all that was visible was a black pane. She narrowed her eyes at him, and waited until he had relaxed some before opening the door.
"Good afternoon," she said to the man, who put down his magazine with a smile. "Can I help you?"
"No, no," the man said as he looked her over. His name tag said P. Jackson, but it wasn't a name that she recognized from any of the agents' personal files, so he couldn't be any agent's SHIELD friend visiting from a different HQ. "I'm just waiting here for someone."
"Maybe I could help you find them, Mr. Jackson. Who is it that you're looking for?" Maria said, stepping farther into the room and closing the door behind her. She kept a discreet eye on her communicator and the hidden camera in the corner of the room, so that she was in constant connection with the bridge. There didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary besides the man in front of her, and that made her nervous. When all things are quiet, look for the snake your midst, as her mentor often said.
Jackson let out a little chuckle and he idly brushed off his pants. "It's not really important," he said as he got to his feet. One of his hands strayed to the pocket of his worn black jeans and sat there casually. Maria did not treat it like the absent-minded action it appeared to be – who knew if he had a detonator in there or something? "I won't be here long so it's really not a problem," he continued. His eyes seemed to have gained an ominous glint, but it may have just been a play of the light.
Maria hoped that was all it was.
Maria deliberately put a finger on her communicator and kept her eyes on Jackson as she replied, "I'm afraid that's not quite true, Mr. Jackson. I'm going to have to take you in to the control room so that we can find who you're looking for; the Helicarrier is a highly secretive military base so we have to be very careful with these things." She channeled the mindset she used for arrogant upstart politicians who thought they were the ruler of the world and actually knew nothing about fighting; it was a bit condescending, but it worked on the pompous men all the time.
Unsurprisingly, Mr. Jackson was not one of those men, but he did seem like an amiable person because he let out a little sigh and strolled towards her without complaint. She carefully stepped back to open the door to let him out before her (never turn your back on an enemy, whispered the voice of her mentor) and he crossed the threshold without problem. It was as she followed him into the corridor that the problems arose.
The entire hallway shuddered as a loud metallic groan, and Maria stumbled as the ground shook unexpectedly. Jackson wavered a bit, looking just as surprised as she was, but he recovered quickly. "What was that?" he asked her, eyes narrow.
She ignored him in favor of grabbing her communicator and contacting the bridge. "Maria Hill to bridge; what's our status?"
The same agent's shaky voice replied quickly. "We're stable but the port side rear engine was damaged; we believe it was sabotage. There's no record of unfamiliar wireless activations anywhere, so it must have been done manually, ma'am."
The port side – that was the other side of the ship. Obviously Jackson could not have been the person responsible for the malfunction if it was done manually, but that didn't mean he couldn't be an accomplice.
"Keep an eye on everything and try to contact the Director," she told the agent, then grabbed Jackson's arm. "You'll be coming with me."
"What?" he said, eyebrows raised. "You can't possibly think that I'm connected with any of this."
"It's a possibility, so the niceties are over. Shut up and move."
The man growled something under his breath but didn't try to fight her as they made their way to the bridge. Good. If he had tried something, she would have dropped him with the Taser stashed in her belt and called someone to lock him up until all the commotion was dealt with. They were nearly at the large blast doors that opened into the bridge when Maria's communicator beeped.
"Ma'am!" It was the agent, but his young voice sounded panicked. There was the sound of fighting in the background, and the connection wavered every few moments. "Don't approach the bridge! I repeat - - have been compromised! Don't… the bridge!" The message was broken by static several times, but Maria understood it enough to pull herself and her unwilling guest into a side hallway. It was at the last moment possible as well, because the blast doors were flung open like they were brittle wood instead of reinforced steel.
Maria held perfectly still, not certain if there was someone examining the hall for anymore agents. Next to her, the man held himself with the same tense awareness, and it was just as honed as hers. So she was correct – Jackson was a fighter, experienced in one way or another. After a tense moment, filled with the sounds of sparking circuits and low groans from the bridge, there was a grunt and the sound of heavy footsteps turning away. Taking the risk, Maria peeked around the corner of the hallway and saw the broad back of a dark-haired man toting a strange gun that glowed an unearthly blue. He wasn't alone; there were several other men and women in the bridge holding the same guns and as equally muscled. Most of the agents on bridge duty were lying on the ground, and the ones that weren't were sitting in the control chairs. Their bodies were uncommonly stiff, and they moved rigidly as they went about looking over the Helicarrier's notices and controls.
"It looks like mind control," said Jackson's voice from behind her. Maria jerked a bit in surprise, and turned to look at the man. He had a grim look on his face and his hand had returned to his pocket.
Turning away from the bridge, Maria made her way down the side hallway. "That's probably correct," she said as she went. Jackson caught up with her quickly. "It's best that I go find the Director, then the person manipulating those agents. You should find somewhere to wait out of the fight."
Jackson scoffed and shook his head. "No way in Tarta - hell. There's no telling how many able-bodied agents are left free of those guys' control, or how many enemies. You need every fighter you can get."
Maria gave him a flat look.
The black-haired man sighed, and said, "Look, I know I'm awfully suspicious, but seriously I have nothing to do with these guys. I was honestly waiting for someone! I even have the tag!" He waggled the piece of plastic. "Just take me to your Director Fury and I can prove it!"
All right, that was suspicious. The mysterious man claiming he was not a threat and to take him to her boss in the same breath? That sounded very much like an enemy to her.
So Maria did the intelligent thing. She pulled out her Taser, as quick as lightning, and dropped him.
She had to give it to Jackson (if that was even his real name), he had fast reflexes. He had jerked as soon as he'd seen her move and his eyes had widened when he saw the Taser in her hand, but he wasn't fast enough. His body hit the ground with a heavy thud, and Maria prodded him with her boot just to make sure he was unconscious. When he didn't react she tucked her Taser away and dragged his body towards a closet. Dumping him inside and arranging the man so that he was tucked underneath the service sink and mostly out of sight, she closed the door firmly. Now she just had to find Director Fury.
- - P & S - -
Nick, at that moment, was also hidden in a storage closet, though it was one with spare scrubs for the doctors. He was tucked away behind the awful white plastic suits, a stool artfully pulled in front of his feet so as to hide them. He was holding his breathe, his eye staring at the suit in front of his face as he heard the slow squeal of the door being pulled open. As the light from the hallway spilled into the closet, he could see the silhouette of a stocky man in the doorway, shining through the thin plastic.
God damn it, he thought, if my day gets anymore fucked up I'm going to take a two week vacation, screw the Council and any global crisis that may show up.
He did have every right to be as frustrated as he was. At the beginning of the day he had thought that it wouldn't be that bad – Percy had said that he'd try to stop by the Helicarrier to see him at work, and then head home with him later. Since they were currently hovering over the Atlantic, Percy wouldn't have any problem coming or going, so he'd agreed to meet his partner in the break room several halls away from the infirmary.
He had been on his way when some misinformed recruit had slowed him down to ask a few questions about a file for some diplomat who would be visiting soon. Unwilling to leave the problem unfixed and understanding that it wasn't the recruit's fault for not knowing what the Director looked like while in one of his moods, he had barked out instructions and left the young woman shaking in her boots. And that, of course, was when the malfunction occurred.
Immediately Percy was (reluctantly) put from his mind, and he turned away to make his way towards the bridge. (He only went because he knew that Percy was safe from the explosion, seeing that it was on the other side of the Helicarrier.) Of course, he turned a corner and nearly exposed himself to a pair of muscled thugs in cargo pants and grey shirts with cliché buzz cuts and scars. Seeing the very defined muscles in their backs (which were thankfully facing him) and the ominous looking guns that definitely outmatched his own pistol, he quickly backtracked and ducked into the closet.
Which led him to his current situation.
After a moment, the man said, "Clear," and turned away, letting the door swing shut behind him. Through the thin metal Nick could hear him and his partner walking away. He waited a minute before extracting himself from the scrubs. Creeping into the empty hallway, he began to make his way back towards the bridge. He had to take the long way around, because the two thugs had gone the faster route. As he hurried along, keeping his footsteps silent and checking every corner before he turned them, he tried to think over the events that had passed.
Since those men were walking around so effortlessly and without worry he would assume that the bridge was taken by the enemy. It would be best if he managed to sneak in and see who it was that had taken control of his ship and to see what had happened to the crew manning it. He was creeping around a corner, on his way to the blast doors of the bridge, when he encountered someone on his way. Thankfully, he recognized familiar dark hair pulled into a tight bun and the severe face to be Maria's, and he got the attention of his subordinate quickly.
"Director!" Maria looked faintly relieved at managing to find someone, and they settled themselves in a corner, safe from any cameras.
"Agent Hill. Have you seen any of the attackers?"
"Yes sir; I managed to make it up to the bridge and saw them without being noticed. There appear to be a large number of enemies at the bridge, all trained and with guns that seem to induce mind control. I did not see the leader. Just before the bridge was taken over, I managed to obtain some information about the malfunction. It appears to be manual sabotage."
"Well, shit." Nick scowled and rubbed at the furrows between his eyebrows. He felt the beginnings of a massive headache started up behind his eyes, and dismissed it as best as he could. "Let's make our way to the engine that was targeted; there should be people there guarding the device used to short circuit the engine, so we'll need to take them out so that that risk can be removed."
Maria hurried along behind her boss, slightly relieved that they had something of a battle plan. While she wasn't Fury's biggest fan, she could respect him enough to recognize his tactical genius and his dedication to his cause. She was more inclined to serve the United States itself, regardless of what may happen to other distant nations, but Fury had a far broader view of things. In cases such as these, he was the man to put in charge.
As they wound their way through the hallways, Nick muttered angrily under his breath. Why did these things always have to happen to him? He would have loved to just be with Percy, with no interruptions or complications, just for a day – or maybe a week if he got hopeful! He wanted only to stay in Percy's comfy apartment (it was more of a home for him than the one officially under his name – that one was more for appearances than anything) and shut themselves away. Blue food, fine liquor, a few movies and some books, maybe a couple walks in the nearby park and some refreshing bedroom exercise – it was all he could hope for on a 'vacation.'
But SHIELD Directors don't get vacations, because god forbids that the politicians might keep their egos in their pants and the world might not be in danger for once.
Biting back more bitter swears, Nick turned his attention to Agent Hill. "Did you see anyone suspicious while making your way over here? Someone that might be involved?"
The woman hesitated for a moment. "Well, there was an unknown man in one of the break rooms. He had a guest tag that seemed legitimate, except for a small flaw in the ID coding. He seemed rather unassuming, but we only noticed him shortly before the explosion and all the commotion. He could have been helping the attackers in some way."
Nick felt his jaw lock up and the burgeoning headache at his temples turn into a throbbing migraine. Why in the seven hells was it always him… "Did he perchance have dark hair and tan skin?"
Startled by her superior's tense ton, Maria replied, "Yes, and green eyes and a musculature stature. His tag said P. Jackson, if that was his true name."
"And where exactly is Mr. Jackson?"
"In a storage closet."
"Motherfucker!"
- - P & S - -
Percy managed to wrestle his way out of the storage closet after only a few minutes of twisting to reach the doorknob. He had doused his hands in water from the convenient sink to heal up the small burns he'd gotten from that woman's Taser, so he felt fine once more. Now he just had to find Nick, where ever he was on the blast flying fortress, and smash the face of whomever it was that was causing this ruckus.
Or do the second bit first, then the first. Whichever was more convenient.
Hmm, should he make his way back to the bridge? It was one of the few places that he could actually get to (because there was no way he would spend enough time in an airborne deathtrap to memorize the whole layout) and the centre of most of his problems. Not to mention that Nick would try to find a lone enemy agent and kidnap him to interrogate or something, because all the subterfuge was more his style than just barging in with all guns blazing.
Nick always did like his plans and surprises. It was nice sometimes, like that one time when he returned from the bar and found him waiting with all the lights turned off and those awesome…
No! Bad Percy! Don't think those thoughts during a risky mission! Maybe after…
Taking over the bridge would distract him properly. He began to make his way towards it, musing over what he could do to seize control. Weren't there several containers of water there for the agents when they got thirsty? Those could be helpful…
- - P & S - -
In the end it was all resolved rather quickly, which was something Maria was happy about. After learning about Jackson's whereabouts, Nick had icily told her to take care of the damaged engine and stormed off in the direction of the bridge. While confused, she had done as ordered and with disgusting ease finished off the men standing guard (little training, all muscle and no brain, the guns were useless if they couldn't hit anything) to examine what they were surrounding. It was the maintenance hatch, obviously, and it had an interesting looking gadget lodged into the wires. It had blinking numbers and words on it, and appeared to be the source of the malfunction. She carefully extracted it, stumbled as the engine rumbled a bit but was relieved when it evened itself back out.
With her mission taken care of, she had hurried back to the bridge. Who knew what the Director was doing there? Hopefully he wouldn't damage anything… And what did Jackson have to do with all of this? He couldn't be an accomplice because Director Fury knew him – or if he was an accomplice he had to be a very important one for the same reason. How could he be an important accomplice though? He had been… startling pathetic, really. She'd taken him down without a sweat – hell, he hadn't even been on guard. It was kind of insulting that he hadn't expected anything from her even though they were enemies…
Sneaking up to the blast doors of the bridge, which were haphazardly thrown open, she peeked inside. The attackers were unconscious on the ground, as well as a woman in a ridiculous hat that glowed the same blue as the guns. She had obviously been controlling the agents, who were now unconscious once released from her manipulations. She could see the back of Fury's signature coat, as he leaned against the base of the one of the computer stations. He seemed to be relatively unharmed, and there was no tension in the lines of his body. What worried her more was the presence of one mysterious P. Jackson, who stood in front of the Director. He had a wicked little look on his face and was saying something to Fury in a low voice.
Even from this distance, Maria could see his eyes sparking with something feral, and swallowed as her mouth suddenly went dry. What was he planning? Maybe he really was an enemy, looking at Fury like that… Her hand reached for the gun tucked into her belt slowly. Whatever it was he had in mind, there was no way she would just let him walk over her and the Director.
Jackson began to lean forward, hand reaching for Fury's collar and a devious look on his face, and Maria reacted instinctively. Stepping out from the cover of the entrance, she hurried forward with her gun aimed at Jackson's head. "Don't move Jackson! Step away from the Director or I will shoot!" If that's even your real name, she thought wryly.
The man paused for a moment, head twisting to look at her with a disgruntled expression. Then his brow furrowed and he said something that sounded like, "Fuck it all," and lunged forward. Maria's hand tightened on the trigger and she glared down the barrel –
Only to freeze immediately. What was it she was seeing? She had to make sure.
P. Jackson, suspicious man; Director Fury, unsociable man; one dressed in jeans and a hoodie and the other in designer, body-armor leather – and kissing.
Kissing quite energetically too.
Mechanically Maria lowered the gun. She couldn't quite understand what it was that she was seeing, but Fury was not yelling. Or in distress. Or pain. In fact, he looked rather pleased, and that meant her presence was not needed.
She quickly turned away and made for the exit, vainly trying to think of something to distract her from the monumental… discovery. Maybe Coulson would like to go for drinks tomorrow?
Maybe Coulson would know what the hell was going on, and who the hell this P. Jackson was. Maybe he'd help her invent brain bleach as well.
DRINKS:
For the last chapter: lot's of people got it right, and those who didn't were pretty close or some cool ideas!
Nike's Valour - for the goddess of victory, Nike; a fine scotch that makes you feel proud of all you have accomplished
Sultan of the Skies - for the god of the skies and king of the gods, Zeus; a strong gin that has a finish resembling thunderstorms (note: sultan can mean ruler)
Talons - also for Zeus, representing the talons of his signature animal, the eagle; a nice brandy to compliment the other Big Three Creature Drinks (those are coming soon)
I have lots of exotic alcohols in mind for many more gods. Big thanks to Finwitch1, who has helped me a ton with this entire series with their support and ideas! Thanks everyone for your responses!
AN - So yeah, mentioned up top - not my favorite work, and not my best quality. I'm sorry for it to be like this, but I had no motivation and I wanted to give you something before I leave (which is mentioned later.)
Current story stats as of now: 14 chapters, 231 reviews, 309 favs, 366 follows!
NOTICE - I will be on vacation for two weeks starting Friday, so expect no updates for at least two weeks and probably several days after. I will not have access to internet and I probably won't be working on my stories very often. It's vacation so I might not write much while I'm out running around and seeing cool stuff. I'll most likely start after I get back, so more likely three weeks of no update.
Which is sad, because I'm excited for what's next. That's right folks:
NEXT UP: How Loki Met Him
(Yay! Important god stuff!)