3. Flickering

"Sir, I don't like this. She's not dangerous, she's not a menace. She's a human being with a heart and hopes and dreams and wants and needs."

"That doesn't mean she isn't going to be dangerous in the future," Fury said with a growl. "We don't know her intentions. Therefore, your orders are to keep her in line until we can determine said intentions." Fury's good eye glared at Natasha, almost as if it was by his will alone that was keeping her at attention like a wooden plank.

She frowned and shook her head. "That's the thing though, sir, I don't think she has any bad intentions, I think she's just..." Her eyes looked over at the screen replaying the video of Melanie slamming the floor. Fire flew everywhere. The floor was scorched, but her body language... there was so much fear in it. She wasn't used to this. "I think if we just send word to Charles that she is around, maybe he could send a few people over to play as SHIELD agents to keep an eye on her."

"And then what?" Fury demanded. "Do nothing but 'keep an eye on her?' She needs her memory wiped and she needs to be sent out of here if she's up to no good! This isn't some 'try again, you'll do better' ballet class, Romanov. This is SHIELD. In due time, she will not even know this part of her life existed. What does it matter to you?"

Natasha kept her mouth shut. There was no arguing this with Fury it seemed.

"Are you emotionally comprised by this?"

"No," she spat. "You know I'm committed."

"Then get your head out of the clouds and follow your orders," Fury returned her venom. "Keep an eye on Miss Fraser. If anything were to happen, report it to me. Do anything necessary to keep her in your trust."

She hesitated only slightly before nodding stiffly and saying, "Yes, Director Fury."

The snow had swirled to a stop earlier that day, but it had left a few inches behind. Standing ankle deep in it, Melanie checked her watch. 7:58, the small numbers read. Chill out, she thought to herself. She's not late, she's just not here yet. No worries. But that didn't help. The constant question of 'what if she doesn't show up?' continued to pester her as the seconds continued to tick by on the watch. She did have the right place didn't she? Natasha had sent her a message containing the address of a small place downtown. It looked like a fun place. Hopefully they would be able to—

"Mels!"

And there she was. Melanie felt her breath leave her. Dressed in tight black jeans and a flattering red scoop top, Natasha looked radiant. She had on a light jacket with what looked like a college crest on it. A small necklace with an arrow on it was a simple, but very nice choice. A hint of eye shadow sparkled above her light eyes. Her black wedges clicked on the pavement where the snow had been shoveled as she walked. She offered a smile. "Glad you could make it!" Natasha said, as she gave Melanie a small hug.

"Thanks for coming," Melanie said, her heart beating faster in her chest. She felt very plain in her sparkling orange top and jeans. "Shall we?" She motioned to the door. They walked in, and were instantly assaulted by the wave of sound. The beat of the music was so loud that it vibrated through Melanie and left her feeling almost breathless. Her entire ribcage seemed to rattle as they dropped their coats in the front closet.

"Let's get a few drinks!" Natasha yelled next to Melanie's ear. She nodded and followed the other woman through the crowd to the bar. When they reached the bar, Natasha was already handing Melanie a drink. "Cheers!" The agent said and threw back a few sips.

Melanie raised her glass and took a drink. Liquid fire raced down her throat and burned her mouth. Damn, was it good though. They both had no trouble putting away several more. It wasn't until Melanie's whole world was spinning that she realized that she might be a bit buzzed.

But it didn't matter. Whatever she had, it must've been made of pure courage, because Melanie seized Natasha's arm and dragged her to the dance floor. A hundred or so other people were already there, jumping and dancing to the electric rhythm. Melanie started moving, her hands not leaving Natasha's hips. The agent was smiling, moving her body in a way that drove Melanie crazy. Melanie swirled around and started grinding against Natasha, feeling her, embracing her, touching and dancing.

Time meant nothing.

The world was flashing and whirling in an alcohol fueled frenzy. Natasha's red hair flew around her as she spun, a haze of own red fire. Meanie grabbed the agent and brought their two bodies together as the music thrummed through the building, making the world shake and stir. Lava seemed to erupt inside Melanie as Natasha's body was moving against her own, their sweat mingling and their skin finding only each other.

"Come on," Natasha yelled suddenly, pulling Melanie away from the throbbing dance floor and across the room to the exit. Melanie's steps were a little messy, but Natasha, the beautiful Natasha, was leading her. She had nothing to worry about. Suddenly, her coat was around her shoulders and they were flagging down a cab.

The cab's interior was messy and dingy, but it was only for a short time. After quickly saying her address, Melanie wasted no time in grabbing Natasha by the shoulder and biting her neck. The agent sighed under her. Melanie felt her blood pounding, but she couldn't tell whose it was. Her hands began to explore the other woman, slipping under her red shirt and feeling her toned body. Natasha didn't waste any time in doing her own feeling around. She led her hands to Melanie's waist, tenderly caressing every curve and feature.

Suddenly, Melanie was struggling with her keys, trying to put them in the lock to her door. How did they get there? Oh... No, it didn't matter, because there were Natasha's hands again. This time, feeling up her ribs and onto her supple breasts.

"Oh god..." Melanie moaned, her body temperature rising.

And then they were on the bed. Finally.

Clothing was pointless. They ripped all of it off until there was only skin on skin, woman on woman, goddess upon goddess. There were no words exchanged, no coherent ones, anyway, for several minutes. Melanie felt her body explode as Natasha's tongue found every nook and cranny of her, licking, feeling, touching, oh god! Melanie's hips bucked as Natasha's tongue swirled over her.

Melanie heard herself scream Natasha's name as ecstasy overtook her. Wasting no time, she flipped the other woman onto her back. She took her sweet time with the process, feeling Natasha's nerves clench and twist as her fingers explored the terrain of her body. "God, Mel, right there!" Natasha gasped. "God please..." she moaned.

Melanie obliged and took her tongue on a journey through Natasha's most private area, licking and sucking and biting until Natasha came with vigor, releasing a cascade of emotion.

Both women collapsed onto each other, breath ragged and exhausted. Melanie had just gotten comfortable when she felt her consciousness leave her, wrapped in the arms of her beautiful agent.

Sunlight streamed through the window as Melanie woke the next morning. Her head was pounding and her stomach was reeling. God, why did she feel so—?

Oh shit.

She sat up, remembering having wild sex with Natasha. She shivered at the memory. Natasha was very practiced. Melanie glanced around the room and saw her clothes leading to the bed like a paper trail. The spot next to her on the queen sized bed was vacant and there was a note on the pillow. Melanie reached for it and her glasses and read:

"Mels,

I left a toasted bagel on the table for you as well as a pot of coffee brewing in the machine. I hope you slept well, I had a very nice night. See you on Monday.

-Nat."

Melanie rolled over and covered her eyes. She could smell the coffee, but her stomach lurched at the thought of food. But the coffee did sound like a good plan. Wrapping the blanket around herself, Melanie trudged out to the kitchen, ignoring the protest of her pounding head. Her phone was on the counter and while she poured herself a cup of coffee, she read over some of the texts. Bruce wanted to know if she wanted to have another meditation session, Tony was griping about her not answering her phone and how he wanted to construct a specialized welding machine (because the ones on the market just aren't powerful enough), and an unregistered number tried to call her. The area code was from the town she grew up in. No doubt it was one of her cousins or someone like that calling to check up on her.

When Melanie left for college, she didn't go back to New Paltz, the tiny tourist trap where she was born. The small town lifestyle bored her, and she needed to get away from the prying eyes of her family. Her mother had died a mysterious house fire, and they believed it to be a gas pipe leak that had caught. After all, there was no evidence of arson. But that didn't stop the suspicion that arouse around her when she left for school and didn't come back home. Her relatives had been ready to welcome her into their homes, but she refused each and every one.

The coffee had grown slightly cold, so Melanie forced her hand to become almost boiling hot. In no time, the coffee was steaming again.

What bothered her the most though was why someone would call now? There had been no contact for several months. Did something happen to one of her relatives? She was hesitant to even call them back. There wasn't a guarantee that this was a cousin or an aunt or uncle. Maybe it was worth the shot. She redialed the number and waited.

"'Ello?"

Her mood improved drastically. "Uncle Seamus? Is that you?"

"Mellie? Hey there sweetie pie, how are you?"

She smiled and sat down on the kitchen chair. "Just fine, I'm recovering from a bit of a hangover."

"Hitting the old bottle, eh Mellie? Just like your Uncle Seamus, you are. Whiskey is your best friend."

Melanie chuckled. "Uh huh. Crazy old man."

"Eh?! I ain't old!"

Uncle Seamus was almost eighty and as Irish as they come. He was always Melanie's favorite uncle. No matter what time of year, he always had a jar of peppermint sticks on the kitchen counter. He always smelled like peppermint and pipe tobacco. "So what's the story, old timer?" Melanie asked, taking a sip of coffee.

"Ah... Yes. Well, I'm not gonna mince words with ya, Mellie. I'm not feelin' so hot anymore."

Melanie's smile dropped away. She tried to remain composed. "O-Oh?"

"Your Aunt Eliza wants t' put me in a home."

The words lingered for a moment. "Does she?" Melanie had to remember to keep her anger in check. Eliza was the third child. Seamus, Norah (Melanie's mother), and Eliza were siblings. Eliza was never the friendliest person to be around. "Why does she think you need to go to a home? Aunt Kelley is there with you, you'll be—"

"You haven't been around, Mellie. Kelley died. 'Bout a year ago. Heart troubles. We tried to call, but you were traveling in Europe at the time, and so... well."

Melanie hung her head in shame.

"We just never told you because we thought that you would come and visit."

"Uncle Seamus, I'm sorry... I'm sorry I haven't been around. I've just... School was difficult to get away from, and you know how I feel about going back to New Paltz... There aren't many fond memories there..."

"I know, lass. My sister was never the lovin' type. Even when we were kids growin' up in Ireland." He sniffed loudly. "Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that your old timer is headed to a home."

"It's no excuse as to why I haven't been there. I... I'll come visit, Uncle. Give me an address. I'll call off work and come up to see you," she waited as he thought.

"That sounds like a fine idea, Mellie." She could almost hear his smile. "Remember were the Harp and Fiddle pub is on Main Street? The home they're taking me to is a block over on Second and Fifth. Ya can't miss it."

She wrote down the directions. "Alright, Uncle. I'll be up to see you as soon as I can. I'll be up tomorrow evening. Sound good?"

"I'll even save you a peppermint stick." He said. Melanie felt tears welling in her eyes at that.

"Alright, Uncle Seamus, take it easy, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Have a good day, love."

Seamus O'Connor put the receiver back in the cradle. "There. She'll be here tomorrow. Are you happy?" The old Irishman glared at the two police officers in his living room. While most of the furniture had been clearing away and possessions had been put in boxes, the ragged chair that Seamus sat in still gave it a homey feel. The Irishman was balding, but a thick beard and mustache still grew on his chin. It was mostly grey, but some of his red hair still poked through here and there. His watery blue eyes stared down the officers.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. O'Connor. We'll confront her when she gets here," The tall officer said.

"Why do ya even need to? It was a gas leak... Mellie wouldn' hurt no one." Seamus said defiantly.

The short officer clutched a file closer to his side. "We've tried to ask her about her mother's death for quite some time. While she has cooperated, Miss Fraser has not been consistent with her stories. After reviewing all of the evidence and thoroughly investigating evidence and rereading your niece's statements, there is no other explanation."

"Your niece caused the fire that killed Norah Fraser," the tall officer concluded.

Seamus mumbled heatedly. "She's a sweet little girl who wouldn' hurt no one." He stayed firm by his statement.

"As you wish, Mr. O'Connor. But just know that she will be arrested on sight if she shows any sign of struggle," the tall officer tipped his hat. "Good afternoon, sir." And with that, they left.

Seamus sighed heavily and picked up his cup of black tea. He took a sip thoughtfully. "Ech..." He spat. "Cold as ice." He shook his hand out briefly, then held it under the mug. A small flame sprouted in his hand and he heated the liquid back up. "Much better."

There you are. Now, since that was all of the story that had been up before, we're going to be updating live. Live updates will have a less consistent update schedule. Please continue to read, it's greatly appreciated. I would also love some reviews. I still haven't gotten a single one. Your favorites and follows are very welcome as well, but feedback is appreciated.

I was checking out the view graph by country and I figured I would give a shoutout today to my five readers from Brazil! Thanks for your support!

As always, keep reading ladies, gentlemen, and variations thereupon. Thanks!