Authors Note: this is hot off the press so PM if there are mistakes. Furthermore, I would like to thank FloridaGirlHere, EmzLuvzT, KimberlyAdams21 and CharlieFreemantheJumperch for flowing my story. Cheers!
After the massive breach of the Joint Dark Energy Mission Facility, everybody was on edge. Majority hadn't slept since the evacuation and had been ordered to prep the state-of-the-art helicarrier for launch as soon as they got to base. All the S.H.E.I.D brats (a lovely name given to the children of agents by one Nick Fury) has been squirrelled away in a secure base. The text message Beatrice had gotten when they left was all the notification she had in the last few hours. There was, of course, a general statement assuring parents and guardians that their wards were safe but it did help to have an actual statement from their kids saying they were in good hands. Agent James, alongside others, have to wait until this ordeal was over. She was limited of family time enough as it is.
When she was escorted to the medical bay on the helicarrier, she was given strong meds that knocked back the pain and a cream that seemed to also numb her ankle area. The doctors had said she'd be healed up in a few hours due to the nature of whatever they had given her but they put on kinesiology tape on just for good measures. Even on rest days, you couldn't guarantee that something wouldn't happen. Beatrice limped out of medical and into the nearby elevator, punching in the button for the bridge. Glancing at her watch, she groaned. It had felt like forever already but it had only hit one o'clock in the afternoon. She hadn't even had a fucking mug of coffee. The elevator doors pinged open and she grumbled at the state of disorganisation one front of her.
Tech guys were all over the place, tablets haphazardly thrown about and paper littering the floor. This would not do.
"Alright, knock it off!" yelled Senior Agent James. Everybody stoped what they were doing and looked at her, unsure of what would happen. "This," she aced her arm in front of her as she walked to the middle of the room, "is unacceptable. We are launching in exactly," she looked down at her watch, "thirty-four minutes, fifty-six seconds and none of the pre-launch checks have been complete." She stared down at the surrounding officers. "I want this mess cleaned up and all unnecessary technicians out of this room in five minutes. We will only need a few of techs in here, not the entire bloody department as this should have been checked over before we even got on this sodding carrier. Do I make myself clear?" A chorus of "yes ma'am" echoed through the room and Beatrice stalked to long round desk towards the back and sat down, putting her injured ankle up on a vacant chair.
"If I didn't any better, I'd say you were the director," said a chuckled of her superior. She blushed slightly and made to stand but Maria Hill waved her off, a silent command to stay seated. "How's the ankle?"
"Good as it can be. Those doctors had some new meds they were all too happy to try on me," she chuckled slightly. "And you? How do you fee after being underground?" Beatrice didn't want to say trapped even though that was the scenario.
"Unsettling I'm not going to lie," Hill made a move to sit down opposite her friend. "I could hear a few people down there, trying to get out." Her eyes took a glossy sheen and a vacant look appeared on her face. "We…we weren't able to get to them. I managed to get out because I was so close to the entrance but…" she sighed and Beatrice gave a sad look. It always hurt when a S.H.E.I.L.D operation went south.
"You don't have to say anything, Maria. I know," Beatrice stood up, her ankle, surprisingly didn't hurt (those doctors knew how to make a medical cocktail), and quickly gave a Maria a side hug.
"When was the last time you took a shower. Jesus!" Maria brushed her off and stood up, a wobbly smile on her face. Right, in front of inferiors, must look stoic and not emotional.. "Go steal some kit out of storage." There was a slight teasing tone to her voice; humour became their way of dealing with stressful scenarios. Alcohol was also a good remedy but Beatrice has kids to set a good example for.
Beatrice looked at the state of her outfit and it was trashed. Fabric was cut in places where rock had collided with her. How Romanoff kept here intact she had no idea. She shook her head and gave a mock salute to Maria, strutting to the elevator and riding it down to her level. Her room was on the same level as Maria's and Romonaff, alongside several other empty rooms, probably for whoever was in the Avengers Initiative. Beatrice gently walked down to a storage room at the end of the hall.
In the storage room, there would always be spare sets of clothes. A majority of the time when you get called in, you didn't have time to pack much or anything at all. It was quite committed j to see agents carrying nothing but their weapon and a case file onto a long journey. Beatrice prayed to whatever god was listening that they had her size. Shelves had organised crates on them, each one Cleary labeled "SHIRTS, LONG" or "PANTS, CARGO" or something like that. Some crazy motherfucker with OCD decided that would be the best way organise clothing and sure, it worked a bit but majority of the time, nobody really cared what they got as long as it was in their size. Beatrice sighed and started to pull down crates and search. It took a while but she managed to find some clothing: full length skins; long sleeved top with the S.H.E.I.L.D logo on the biceps; thin bullet brood vest and a jacket that was similar to Barton's. It was long sleeved with a high collar and ended at the hips. Where was he and why the hell would he be compromised? That man was as loyal as a golden retriever and he even acted like one! Questions swam around her head and they all kept leading back to the unknown man; the man who gave her a strange sense of comfort even when he tried to kill her fellow agents. Nothing made sense. Who was he? What would he want to do with the Tesseract? Where even is that stupid, piece of shi-
"So, you gonna stand in the storage room all day?" the voice of one Natasha Romanoff broker her train of thought. Beatrice blinked and looked up, jacket clutched tightly in her hands. "I saw you come here and thought you might need some help. Storage clothes can be a nightmare." The assassin smiled politely and leaned onto the door frame.
"I'm alright thanks, it's just been a rough night,"she said quietly and looked down at the jacket again. She shook her head slightly angry and clenched her teeth, scooping up the clothes and sighed heavily. She was gonna hunt that bastard down. Beatrice looked at the assassin who was clearly unfazed by her anger.
"I'll get you a holster," Romanoff said and walked off. The two women hadn't had much interaction apart from the necessary work meetings. Beatrice helped keep the intelligence and spy network running smoothly and was Romanoff's superior. To many agents Beatrice was called The Handler because, well, she handled everything that they did. She handled the field handlers and made sure that every piece of paperwork and legislation was filled out correctly. The Handler has also been a top agent, having a few assassinations under her belt but that was a long time ago, before the kids entered her life.
Beatrice walked to her room and shutting the door before unceremoniously discarded the clothes in her arms on the bed, untying her boots and peeling off the two-piece cat suit. The shower she had was brief and cold and it was only until she stepped out and had a look in the mirror did she see how bad she looked.
Her usually warm, olive toned skin had taken a sallow look with dark purple bags forming under eyes. Bruises started to bloom in a sick bouquet on her side and back from rocked. Even her long, inky hair lost its usual shine. For the hundredth time today, she sighed and pulled on her clothes. Everything kind of fitted. Her long sleeve was a bit tight but it was similar to how the cat suit clung to her so that wasn't much of a big deal. The jacket, on the other hand, was a bit too big, creating a sort of puffiness around her. It could be a problem in combat but that was alright. She got warm really quickly anyway. The skins and vest fitted fine and there was of course her boots she'd warn in the evac. They ended at mid calf and could carry a lot of knives. In this line of work, the more weapons you had on you, the better. Beatrice braided her in a French plait before tying it in a bun at the base of her skull, securing it with an insane amount of hairpins. Even they could become a weapon of you were creative enough.
When she emerged into the hallway, Romanoff was waiting there for her, two thigh holsters and finger gloves in her hands.
"Armoury wouldn't let me get your guns but I managed to snag these," she held them out and Beatrice gladly took them, securing her right holsters before pulling on the gloves, clenching and unclenching her fists to loosen them up. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the armoury. Natasha Romanoff was probably the most armed woman on the helicarrier and yet they wouldn't let her sign out two guns for somebody else. The assassin caught her eye roll and smiled. "Now I've gotta go and escort Doctor Banner and Captain Rogers so I'd recommend you run to the armoury and get up to command. Take off is soon." And with that she turned at strutted to the elevator. Sometimes that woman forgot who was her superior and yet, it was oddly refreshing. Maybe Beatrice should try to talk more often with Romanoff.
"Thank you for you help," called out Beatrice and the assassin just smiled and nodded as the elevator doors closed. Now that she was alone again, she could start up her worrying. Being a single mother did that to you. The kids had gone dark, no way she could contact them but maybe if she could corner Coulson? She smirked. Before she tracked down the agent, she needed something to fill the holsters and that meant the trip to the armoury, which according to Romanoff, was manned by a fucking idiot today. Oh today is just gonna get worse, she thought as she stalked towards the elevator.
It took an unnecessary amount of time to sign out two guns. Two fucking hand guns. The idiot was insanely green meaning it was his first day looking after the armoury. He believed that one needed a hard copy of ones ID and insisted that the fucking high security database wasn't enough. Her hard copy was burnt in that helicopter (it had exploded as soon as the pilot was pulled out). It took several other held up agents yelling and throwing complaints for him to accept defeat and search the database. In petty revenge for the wasted time, Beatrice took extra rounds and a taser. The man didn't even bother trying to stop her which was a blessing.
It felt good to feel the weight of the guns. She hadn't had a need for them in a while, mainly doing desk work but she was still a top notch sniper that was why she and Barton got along so well; him being the best at arrows and her shooting somebody at insane distances. It became a friendly rivalry but he over took her but that was only because he did more field work than she does but Beatrice was sure that if she got out more, she'd beat him at anything…if they got him back, that is. She needed intel to find him and the only place she could get that was through Fury.
Oh joy, another trip to command. Maybe this time it won't be as chaotic.
Thankfully, everybody had taken her orders to heart and the room was much more quieter and organised. People still walked about but they were mainly supervising the operators and techs. Beatrice spotted Maria at her station and Director Fury at his. She needed to know what job she had and moved to stand behind and to the left of the Director, slipping into an informal parade rest. Her advancement did not go unnoticed.
"Hill tells me you managed to get this lot in shape," he said, looking and tapping on panels informs of him.
"Yes sir," Beatrice responded.
"Then I'll take it you'll have no problems with getting Stark here." Oh sweet Ra, he wants her to deal with Stark?
"I thought that was Coulson's job, sir?" she prayed that this was a mistake.
"It was before I had him handle the other Initiates," so this was about the Avengers Initiative. Shit has really hit the fan for Fury to call them in but Beatrice didn't know why. The Initiative was meant to be activated if there was an off world threat, an alien threat to be precise but the mysterious (and quite alluring) man looked completely human.
"If you don't mind me asking, sir, why would we need to activate the Initiative? Isn't it just a Human threat?" she questioned and Fury stopped what he was doing and looked at her.
"The bastard that took the Tesseract and several agents with it, is supposedly Loki, the god of Lies. His brother, according to Doctor Selvig, was the first alien that came down in New Mexico. Now I need you to stop asking questions and talk to Stark," he ordered and Beatrice felt dread fill her stomach. She nodded and moved away, her stomach twisting. Oh fuck, the kids could've gotten hurt if this god decided her wanted to the extra mile when it came to destruction. Life suddenly got a whole lot more dangerous.
Coulson came onto the bridge as the turbines came online and deep thrum was felt under everybody's feet. Beatrice caught his eyes and motioned for him to come over. He had dealt with Stark countless times so she needed all the help she could get.
"I'm dossing with Stark now and I need your advice," she whispered and Coulson gave a slight grimace. Tony Stark was the bane of people's existence if they had to deal with him. He was a nice man but sometimes he took the asshole act to the extreme.
"Treat him like a toddler and reiterate everything you say. The only way you can talk to him is his personal number. Here," he pulled out a phone and placed it in her hand. "Good luck," and with that he walked off to talk to Fury, something about a face trace. She opened the phone and flicked through the contacts, dialing the number she needed. It rang. And rang. And rang going straight to voicemail. She dialled it again and it still went to voicemail. This cycle continued till Stark got tired of his phone constantly ringing.
"This is Stark," he answered, his tone laced with boredom.
"Hello Mr Stark. This is Agent James from S.H.I.E.L.D. I'm calling to inform you that-" she was cut off.
"You're calling to tell me to get my ass to wherever it is so unless it's a catching-bad-guy-emergency and not boring-meeting-emergency, I'm gonna hang up now. Bye bye," and the line went dead.
"What the actual fuck just happened?" she whispered yelled to herself and moved to sit down at the table. That was one of the most bizarre exchanges she had ever had.
"Don't take it personally, he's just a dick sometimes when it comes to protocol," came the smooth voice of Romanoff as she strutted out of the elevator with a bike-eyed blonde and a nervous brunette in her wake. So this must be the frozen Captain and the volatile Doctor. Beatrice wondered if Coulson had asked Rogers to sign his trading cards yet.
Fury had turned to greet the men and walked towards them, Rogers handing him a ten-dollar bill and the Doctor shifting nervously as he looked for exits. Rogers walked further into the room and Maria eyed him up suspiciously as he walked past her.
"Doctor, thank you for coming," spoke Fury as he shook hands with the small brunette.
"Thanks for asking nicely," he replied and looked down, obviously uncomfortable. "So, how long am I staying?"
"Once we have the Tesseract, you're in the wind." The Doctor was grateful for that and nodded, moving away.
"Where are you with that?" He asked and walked towards the main part of the room. Fury pointed to Coulson to answer that.
"We're sweeping revenue wirelessly accessible camera on the planet." Rovers loooked interested and loved further towards the group, Beatrice bling him, flanking the Doctors side. "Cell phones, laptops…If it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us." The Widow was crouching down by an operator running the face trace, a picture of Barton on the screen.
"You're still not gonna be able to find them in time," she said a bit anxiously.
"You have to narrow your field. Hi many spectrometers do you have access to?" asked Doctor Banner and Beatrice perked up, her interesting flaring up in what this man plans to do.
"How many are there?" asked Fury, arms crossed.
"Call every lab you know. Tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate then for gamma rays," he took off his jacket. "I'll rough out a tracking algorithm, basic cluster recognition. At least we can rule out a few places. Do you have somewhere for me to work?"
"Agent Romanoff," called Fury and the Widow walked towards the Director, Doctor Banner and Beatrice. "Could you show Doctor Banner to his laboratory, please?"
"You're gonna love it, Doc. We've got all the toys," spoke the Widow as the pair strode off to the elevators and to the lab.
"Now, Agent James," he turned to her and Beatrice stood to attention. "I'll expect you'll learn to deal with Stark since you're one of the leading Agents on the Initiative."
"I'm one of the leading what?!"