At first, Moira found the conclusions her partner and supervisors had made impossible to believe. That a man could somehow make her forget months of her life, by using superpowers. It sounded... well, it sounded ridiculous.
Then Levene showed her the tapes. They confirmed the few facts her supervisors did know about her missing months – that she had joined some kind of secret task force, that she had worked alongside people with incredible and unbelievable gifts. Levene described the meeting where Charles Xavier had read minds and Raven Darkhölme had transformed into Agent Stryker. Then he showed her security footage of the hallway outside the meeting room. Where Levene froze at the water fountain as Moira looked around, apparently talking to herself.
"Afterwards you told me that he contacted you," Levene explained. "That somehow you communicated telepathically."
The second tape showed the parking lot where Moira had driven to fetch the mutantsand the Agent Stryker, the mystery agent her supervisors refused to talk about.
"I lost you after that. You told me you had to do something important and that, while you were gone, I should try and keep McCone off your back." He continued, a touch of reprimand to his voice that he didn't really mean. Levene was used to Moira running off on her own and leaving him to run crowd control. It worked well that way and Levene knew it. He was good with people, good at smoothing down riled up supervisors and reassuring concerned citizens. Moira was good at jumping into dangerous situations feet first and wangling her way out of them.
"And you didn't see me until last week?"
"No, I did see you one other time. We went on a mission to Russia."
"I went to Russia?" Moira blinked, stomach churning as the entire situation became even more unsettling. To forget a few conversations was one thing, but to forget weeks of her life and covert operations abroad was another. The sense of violation deepened as it finally sunk in that this had really happened to her.
Levene explained that the task force had picked up a new recruit by this point, someone called Erik Lehnsherr who could apparently control metallic substances. "I didn't really see his powers in action though. Xavier managed to make our team invisible somehow. He said it was an illusion he made them believe so we could get through the check points."
"And I didn't tell you what had happened when we met up?"
"You gave me a rundown, but nothing more than I've already been able to tell you. That you got involved in recruiting mutants and hunting down a guy who was trying to kill humans. Then you disappeared again and I didn't hear anything more about the task force until the Cuba incident."
Moira hummed, pressing her cold fingers to her lips. "McCone debriefed me about that. As much as he could anyway." He'd disapprovingly told her how she had stood on a beach, in the middle of two warring nations, defending the mutants only to be nearly killed by one for her troubles. When they'd had that conversation she still had the marks around her neck from where Lehnsherr tried to strangle her.
The agency continued to ask her questions about what happened on that beach, regardless of the well-known fact that she couldn't remember any of it. It seemed inconceivable to anyone, Moira included, that this could actually happen.
"Well, you have all the information that I do on that. I didn't see you again until you called me over to your apartment a few days later."
Moira kept pressing Levene for more details over the coming weeks and months, but he could never find anything new to tell her. She kept trying though, telling him it was so she could try to understand more about her thoughts and actions during those missing months, to piece together the case so they could work out if the threat still existed. What she was really waiting for was something, anything, that would trigger a memory and help her remember. Some insignificant phrase or word which would bring everything back. Something more than flashes of light and that godforsaken kiss.
The kiss disturbed her more than she cared to admit. And not just because her bosses had immediately jumped on one of her few remaining impressions of those missing months as a way to further undermine her. Her memories from the Hellfire Club were still there. She knew that mutants existed and she knew that Xavier was apparently the foremost expert on them. That was why, according to her application for travel, she had flown to Oxford to meet with him.
The extent of his powers, demonstrated to her through the tapes and Levene's descriptions, painted a portrait of a very powerful being. One who had no problem altering people's perceptions, communicating telepathically, wiping months of memories away – and he certainly had no reservations about using that ability. She remembered the emotion behind the kiss and knew how deeply she had cared for him. How badly had her judgement been impaired that she had fallen for someone who apparently had no qualms about invading her mind, the one part of her that should be hers alone? Had her feelings even been genuine? Did she have free will during that time?
When she was alone she questioned everything. Her motives, the people she had sided with, her instincts, her thoughts.
At work she needed to keep her head high and walk the corridors confidently, otherwise she risked having her job pulled out from beneath her. Her superiors eventually accepted that she remembered very little of what had happened. The tests showed there was no brain damage and, coupled with their knowledge of Charles Xavier's abilities, the conclusion was drawn that she would never remember. With that acceptance, however, Moira found that all of her hard work establishing a position for herself at the CIA appeared to have been undone. Even though she hadn't exactly gotten people to like her before the incident, there had been a level of begrudging respect. She'd proven herself multiple times to be capable of more than secretarial work. But now wherever she went there were whispers. About the hormonal woman who had fallen in love with a mutant.
She was shunned by most of her colleagues, but then that wasn't really new. Now, instead of listening to the run of the mill sexist jabs, she got a little variety by having her every decision questioned because her mind didn't work properly. Because she was damaged. Levene stood by her like he had done since they'd first been partnered up, and he always jumped up to defend her.
Levene, who was now in the unique position of being one of the few people to meet Charles Xavier, still remember it and was alive to tell the tale.
With time Moira knew she could restore her credibility among the ranks, as long as she didn't show any more weakness. And Levene's long-winded speeches about her patriotism and bravery, which arose every time Moira got a snide comment by another agent, couldn't hurt. Except, a month later they would still just laugh and say she was protecting freaks.
Time passed. Her paranoia settled but the CIA's didn't.
"I've decided to pull you and Levene off the case," McCone said, slapping the file she had just delivered back onto the desk after a polite glance. They'd been investigating a man with potential communist affiliations for the past three weeks.
"But sir," Moira started," we've nearly closed it."
"I think you would be better suited to a different assignment."
"Sir…"
"Especially after what you went through. To be frank MacTaggert, we've been discussing it and we think it would be in your best interest to take a leave of absence."
She tried to speak but he cut her off. "Just take a few months."
He tried to interrupt her again when she opened her mouth but she spoke loudly over his attempts. "I'm perfectly capable of doing my job."
"It's nothing to be ashamed of Moira." He said, using the same tone he reserved for the secretaries.
"I never said I was ashamed."
"Of course not. But…" He paused and took a minute, leaning back in his chair and forming a temple with his fingers. "Given what you went through, we thought it would be appropriate for you to have some time off. To help you deal with your feelings."
"I have no feelings about what happened, sir. I don't remember it."
"You never know. Some R&R might help you with your memory loss." McCone said, trying to pretend that he was doing this for her benefit.
She took a deep breath. "Sir, don't drop us off this case."
"I'm sorry Moira, but I really think it's for the best."
She was costing Levene his career with this bullshit. Every time they got anything close to a half-decent case it would be snatched away from them before they could close it. And they always used the excuse that it was because she wasn't in her right mind.
Levene never complained, he would grouch about McCone and the rest of the CIA for how they treated her. He wouldn't complain about her or request a new partner. He liked working with Moira and Moira liked working with him. She liked being his friend and having dinner with him and his wife on the weekends. She liked having someone around that she could actually trust. Someone who didn't think she was weak. But she couldn't keep working like this. And she couldn't allow Levene to be punished for his loyalty to her.
"I didn't want to have to do this," Moira said, shaking her head. "I'd hoped if I stuck it out things would improve, but I see now they never will. I am an excellent agent. And one day when you realise what an ass you are, you're really going to regret this."
McCone's genial expression abruptly fell away with her words and the scowl she was more comfortable with reappeared. "Now look here MacTaggert..."
"You have left me no other choice. You can leave Levene on the case. I quit."
Pulling her jacket back she removed her gun from its holster and pulled her badge from her belt. She set them both on his desk.
"Moira," he said with a smile as she stood. "You don't have to quit. I told you we'll give you leave. Paid leave. And you can come back as soon as you feel ready. We'd have to ease you back in of course, maybe put you on desk duty for a little while…"
She shook her head. When she had been made an agent she had hoped things would finally get easier, that she wouldn't have to work twice as hard as everyone else to get half as much respect. And yet, no matter how much she sacrificed, she knew now that she would never rise any higher in their esteems. It seemed futile to keep trying.
Not confident that she would be able to refrain from calling McCone worse than an ass if she continued to speak, Moira turned swiftly on her heel and walked out. McCone half-heartedly called after her, but she had no doubt her resignation would be met by more celebrations than regrets.
Making her way into the break room she collected her bag and purse, stopped by HR and then made her way straight to the parking garage. There was nothing important at her desk and she wouldn't give the other guys the satisfaction of seeing her pack up her stuff.
Moira was going to be better than they ever would. She just didn't know how yet.
She'd talk to Levene later, he'd gone home already but she wanted to call him before McCone did. He deserved to hear about her decision instead of getting a blunt notice from the agency saying he'd have a new partner by next Monday.
As she shoved her key into the lock of her car she found herself pausing for a moment, her anger ebbing away. Taking a deep breath, Moira tried not to panic as her unemployment suddenly dawned on her. She was more than qualified for plenty of jobs, and maybe this time she could find one without so much bullshit.
Yanking open the door she threw her bag onto the backseat. A voice stopped her before she could get in.
"Moira MacTaggert."
Turning she spied a tall man, cloaked in the shadow of the stone pillar he leant against. Her eyes quickly spied four men evenly spread out around him, hands behind their backs in the picture of obedience.
"Yes?" She said hesitantly, wishing she hadn't thrown her purse into the car so hastily. Her back-up weapon was in there.
Stepping forward so she could see him clearly, the man shot her a tight-lipped smile. "I'm sorry if I startled you. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Nick Fury."
He paused, casually placing his hands in his pockets. "Tell me. What do you know about S.H.I.E.L.D?"
