AN: I am so sorry about the delay! I just moved into a new apartment and have been without internet since the fourth. I've got several chapters going at once now, so I hope I can post again within the week if not by the end of this upcoming week.

Of Pre-School and Espionage

Three. I had three options in three detailed and glossy brochures. I really don't like the pictures on these things. Having been a father for nearly four years now, I can tell the photographs were clearly staged. What child would have such a wide smile plastered on their face while wearing that uncomfortable uniform? I can almost hear the complaints: 'daddy it so itchy. I don't like.' And what exactly are they doing in these pictures? How many children actually gather round with pseudo intelligent looks of wonder on their faces in front of an altogether too smiley teacher? Some of them are stroking the non-existent hair on their chins. Can there be no authenticity in their shameless advertising? It's our children for Pete's sake!

Yes, this would be my low point: harshly critiquing photo advertising. I was so frustrated that I still hadn't chosen a preschool for Evy and the deadline was fast approaching. I originally wasn't going to enroll Evy into a program for the fall. Only when I received the invitations to enroll Evy from the schools did I remember my wife's request. I'm apprehensive about the whole ordeal. My wife had spoken fondly about her own experience in a pre-school program. She remembered making many of her first 'good' friends at that time and felt more comfortable when she enrolled in primary school. But, Evy wasn't like other children, and I was very concerned about the security in these schools. I asked Phil to help in running checks on all these schools to determine which would be the best choice in terms of security. Three programs made the list: J.K Simon pre-school, Stanley primary, and the Saint Maria school.
All of them boasted good academics, extracurricular activities and, most importantly, their staff passed Shield's background check. Now, I had to pick one.
"Daddy?" Evy tugged my sleeve. I had set up a tiny work desk for her in the office so that she could play while I worked. It was neatly arranged with construction paper, crayons, stickers, and a small pile of gold fish in a Dixie cup.
"Yes sweetie?"
"I make for you," she handed me a paper with two figures holding hands. "Fee bedder?"
"Much better, honey," I picked her up.
"Daddy sad?" she asked.
"No, I'm frustrated."
"Oh," she replied. "What flustated?"
"It means that daddy is having a hard time making a choice." Evy nodded. She held up her fingers.
"Eeny meenie!" I laughed.
"Baby, I don't think 'eeny meenie' is going to help." Her eyes widened.
"Dat really bad daddy," she said, her eyes full of concern.
"Yes, it is really bad," I agreed. Suddenly, a thought came to me. Pulling the brochures closer, I turned to Evy.
"What do you think Evy? Which one should we choose?" I asked her.
"What are they?"
"They're schools-well pictures of schools that want you as a student."
"They want me?" she asked. "Daddy they look the same." She pointed to the pictures where bore an eerie similarity to each other.
"There's more inside the booklets. Daddy can read it to you if you want," I proceeded to read to her the bullet points of each school. Evy didn't seem very interested in the 'academically stimulating' classrooms.
"Daddy," she asked me after the second one. "Do they have swings?
"I think they all do," I looked through each of the pamphlets.
"Good, coz I don't know how to fly yet and I need to…so they need swings."
"Fly?"
"I'm gonna fly, daddy," she told me resolutely. "Daddy do they have crayons?"
"I imagine that they all do," I answered.
"I need lots and lots of ones," she explained. "And daddy, do they have unicorns?"
"I don't think any of them do."
"Oh," she remarked softly. "I like uni-corns…Maybe…daddy maybe unicorns are hiding."
"Hiding?"
"And we can-we can go see the unicorns and den I can pick?" she asked me. I had to admit the idea wasn't bad at all. It made sense to tour these schools and make sure they were exactly what they had advertised. I called and set up appointments for each one the following day. Evy and I toured each of the campuses, sampled their lunches, tested their swing sets and looked for unicorns. In the end, Evy chose the one with the indoor tree-house and the life-size unicorn cut-out, Stanley Primary. In a few short weeks, I was packing Evy's newly purchased back pack for her first day of pre-school.

The canvas bag with paw prints was filled to the brim with everything a little girl would need: her puppy dog pencil box, her box of crayons (name written clearly on the top), a few number two Ticonderoga pencils, a small package of tissues and her lunch pack. I double-checked the school supply list several times, wanting to make sure that my little girl would have everything she needed to be successful. I helped her dress in her new school outfit, and she jabbered on about everything she would learn at school. Grabbing my glasses (I swear these things make the best disguise in the public) and my jacket, we left early that August morning for her first day. As we entered the school yard, Evy became suddenly silent. When we entered the foyer, she stopped walking and pulled back on my hand.
"Honey, come on, we're going to be late," I gently moved her further down the hall toward the classroom with the big playhouse and walls filled with colorful artwork. I got her to the door where I would have to leave her.
"Go on sweetie," I told her.
"Daddy," she turned to me. "Daddy come too." She tugged on my hand.
"I can't baby. This is your school, just for little kids like you. Daddy can't be in there."
"Why?"
"Because," I sighed. "Daddies don't go to school with their babies. It's something they get to do without their daddies." She looked down, tugging on her collar.
"Daddy, we go home?" she asked me.
"Are you scared honey?"
"Yes daddy."
"New things can be scary, huh?" she nodded in response to my question. "But a lot of times those new things aren't that scary at all after we've tried them out. The thing is we won't know for sure until you've tried this out. Do you think you can try it out? And then if you're still scared, we'll try something else, okay?" She nodded again, this time half-heartedly.
"Good. It's just for three hours and then daddy will be right here to pick you up, all right?" I lifted her chin. "Honey, you can do this. If something were really bad, do you think I'd let you go to it?" She shook her head.
"I try daddy," she said softly. Bending down even more, I gave her kiss on her forehead and in return she kissed me on the cheek. I watched as she marched through the doorway and to the jacket closet where she put her new bag. The school bell rang and I saw her teacher, Mrs. Taggart (called Mrs. Tiger by her pupils) lead Evy over to the reading rug where the rest of her class mates were gathering. I left the school without an ounce of fear or worry…or at least I tried to convince myself of that as I sat in the coffee shop directly across from the school wearing Shield issue binocular glasses that would give me a good view of Evy's school. Watching intently, I sipped my coffee. I knew that Evy could handle school; she was confident, smart, kind little girl. She had no need to be afraid…but that doesn't mean that I wouldn't watch over the school-just to be sure.

After the second hour and the fourth cup of coffee, I hadn't seen anything remotely eventful. A dog-walker, a jogger, even an old lady in a walker passed by without so much as a single look at the school. Although , I was starting to become fairly suspicious about a van parked on the side of the street. It was a cable company van, possibly servicing someone in the apartment above the coffee shop. Two hours that van had been parked there without so much as a single soul exiting it to do work or to even pick up coffee for the road. Something was up. As I paid the bill, I kept my eyes on the van looking for any sign of movement. I could make out one person sitting in the driver's seat. Leaving the coffee shop, I casually observed the van from around a corner. Using the 'zoom' function of the glasses I could see that the driver was not reading a magazine, chatting with someone, or even sleeping, they were watching the school. Strange-just a tad too strange for my comfort. I approached the van, coming up with several strategies of what to do should the friendly inquiry turn into an altercation. The man suddenly got up and entered the back of the van. I ran to the van, throwing the back doors open, preparing for anything. Just as I jumped in, I found the man preparing to jump out. A man that I had never seen in khaki shorts in the time I had known him.
"Phil?"
"Captain?" he stared at me, stammering his way through an explanation. "I…this isn't…well it is what you think it is."
"I'm sure it has nothing to do with you changing careers to cable installation," I crossed my arms.
"That it doesn't," he agreed. I looked over his shoulder and saw the interior of the van lined with surveillance equipment.
"Are you watching someone?" I asked, worried for the answer. If a Shield operation was going down, then I would definitely be pulling Evy out of class early, but how to explain that on the attendance slip?
"Yes," he responded. I looked closer to the screens and saw that the many of the shots were of Evy's school and one focused in on her classroom where Mrs. Taggart helped Evy with opening a jar of paint.
"Please tell me it isn't Mrs. Taggart," I pleaded, but realized immediately afterward that it was most certainly not Mrs. Taggart he was watching. "It's Evy, isn't it?"
"How do you mean?" Phil asked.
"You're watching Evy," I replied. "Does Fury know you're using one of the vans for this?"
"I happen to be ensuring the safety of a national icon's child," Phil countered and then added softly "And my god daughter."
"But you ran the background check on the faculty, and Phil you've never been wrong when it comes to people."
"I'm not willing to take that chance Captain," he responded. "Besides there's more dangers for Evy than villains and espionage."
"And I thought espionage and pre-school were my biggest worries-"Phil cut me off with a single hand gesture.
"Something's up."
"What?"
"There's someone on the roof." Phil and I both darted from the back of the van and onto school property.
"I will take the roof," I told Phil. "Secure the perimeter." Just as we were about to part ways we turned face to face with the jogger from earlier. I couldn't see her eyes underneath the glasses, but I was very familiar with her signature eye-rolling.
"Both of you?" she greeted, eyebrow raising at our strange attire..
"Natasha," I began. "What are you doing here?"
"Going for a run," she smirked. "until I saw someone running along the roof. I thought it might be trouble."
"So you're not here because its Evy's school," I asked.
"Is it?" she asked, face completely emotionless. "Then, I guess we'd better get on that roof, right away."
"You're really not here for Evy?" I asked. She turned, gave me an apathetic look and turned around.
"I'm always here for Evy," she answered, not looking at me. I then realized that I had only seen her earlier, in her guise as a jogger, because she wanted to be seen-by me.

"Excuse me," a voice broke through our conversation. A short, stout, older woman stepped into view, her greying hair held strictly in place. It was Evy's principal, Doctor Sanders.
"Unless you are parents, which only one of you happens to be, you must leave these premises at once," she commanded sternly.
"M'am," Phil started.
"Sir," she interrupted. "We do not require any cable services thank you and it is doctor if you would kindly recall that the next time you address me. Now I will give you one final warning, vacate the premises or I will be forced to call law enforcement. I will not have my students frightened by a motley group of dilly-dawdlers. Am I understood?" We all nodded in agreement.
"Good," she continued. "I bid you all a good day, except for you Mr. Rogers. If you would be so kind as to come with me." She motioned for me to follow. Phil and Natasha looked to me for affirmation. I waved them away and followed principal Sanders to her office.
Sitting in the chair, that was far too small for me, I couldn't help but recognize the irony: it was Evy's first day of school and I was the one sent to the principal's office. I felt like the little schoolboy again, sitting before the headmaster as he shook his head, 'Steve, son. You've got spirit, but next time run along and grab a teacher instead of getting pummeled.'
"Mr. Rogers," She sat behind the desk. "Evelyn is your first child, correct?"
"My only," I answered.
"And you are a single parent?"
"Yes."
"How's that treating you?"
"It…it hasn't been easy, but I am fully capable of taking care of my daughter."
"I wasn't implying that you weren't," she responded matter-of-factly. "It is my experience that single parents are particularly protective of their only child-they are their life." She picked up a picture frame from her desk and handed it to me.
"Ma'm-doctor?" I asked looking down at a picture of a young boy.
"My son, Dylan," she explained. "We lost his father when he was only 3 years old. He is the only piece of Bryan I have left. He's 14 now-very gifted. He attends a private preparatory academy for gifted youngsters upstate. It wasn't easy to let him go, but he belonged there and he deserved a chance." I handed the frame back to her.
"And that chance, for your daughter, starts at pre-school," her face reverted to its stern countenance. "When you first enrolled Evelyn your utmost concern was her safety yet you bring a group of unapproved visitors onto campus violating our security and safety procedures."
"I am sorry, but we-I mean I saw someone on the roof and wasn't sure…"
"I know how much she means to you, but you can't go vigilante every time she leaves home. As principal, I am responsible for ensuring every student's safety and promoting a harmonious community. Mr. Rogers, the only way that harmony were to occur is if you work with me. That means following the rules and trusting my ability to protect your child." She rose and approached the front of the desk.
"Besides, that peculiar fellow you saw on the roof is no longer an issue," she explained. "He was already escorted off campus by the authorities. Other than some damaged ventilation shafts, the intrusion was far from dangerous."
"Ventilation shafts?"
"Yes, apparently my predecessor thought it wise to construct a ventilation system large enough for a human being to travel through, although I have no idea how they could get through to the roof short of sprouting wings and flying there." I withheld my comments, preferring to nod instead.
"So are we in agreement, do you think you can entrust your child's care to this school for three hours every weekday?"
"Yes, I can and will do that," I replied.
"Good," she looked down to her watch "In 15 minutes the bell will ring and the pre-school afternoon class will be escorted to the foyer to meet their parents. Mr. Rogers, I suggest that you wait on the bench outside of the office until that time."
And so, after Evy's first day of school, she found me waiting for her on a tiny purple bench outside of the principal's office. She ran into my arms with a large smile.

"I chose to go with them Tash," I overheard Clint ranting in Tony's workshop. "They didn't catch me. I didn't want them to put the place on lock-down…" The archer stopped as he saw me come into view, with Evy in my arms.
"Chickadee!" he called.
"Uncle Clint!" she called back. "Nattie!" She hugged the two agents and began telling them excitedly about their day. I noticed Tony fiddling about at his workstation, Elijah nestled by his side. The baby gurgled excitedly upon seeing me.
"Hello Eli," I greeted the coppered-haired, blue-eyed boy.
"So," Tony began, eyes fixed on his work. "I heard that you were sent to the Principal's office."
"It wasn't a 'first' for me," I answered.
"At least you didn't get thrown in jail," he remarked pointedly, soliciting a disgruntled exclamation from Clint.
"Hey, I wasn't thrown in jail, I was escorted to jail. I didn't want to make a scene in front of the children," the archer protested.
"Well the next time you choose to go to jail, do you think you could get Shield to pay the bail?" Tony called back, pulling Elijah away from the keyboard.
"I don't understand why you're all so worked up about her going to school. I'm a-well you know a famous billionaire and you don't see me dressing up, hiding in the school ventilation system or getting thrown in jail just to watch her. And you won't see me doing that with Eli here…uh-Eli-no touching!" The baby in question lunged for the keyboard once more, turning all multiple holographic screens surrounding the desk. Each screen showed a different shot of Evy's school, one was even an interior shot of the classroom where I saw Mrs. Taggart sitting at her desk eating an apple.
"You hacked into their security cameras?" I questioned the billionaire.
"Like I said, you'll never see me, but I said nothing about me seeing you," Tony then turned to his young son. "I thought you were on my side."
Elijah laughed heartily, clapping his little hands.